it almost makes sense,
come to think of it...
    allowing myself a half a year
interlude between
one and the second
visit to my local Turkish barber...
and at the supermarket -
oh you know,
***** blonde -
   petite -
   probably in her mid 40s...
minx ****...
      past two days,
at the checkout -
    she drops the terms
***
         (honey)
            and babe...
   like some Liverpudlian might
drop the term, pet
onto a woman...
         it really makes sense
to go for the old testament
prophet look from time to time...
hide...
  and then return,
looking civilized -
hardly neglected -
          you'd never think
that a beard not kept to
hipster standards
can become a grand disappearing
trick,
of not hearing such
endearing terms,
   from a supermarket cashier;
plus?
     ooh... years!
i didn't tell the barber to
shave me to a specification...
he managed to leave
a line of clean skin...
a week later from the shave?
stubble!
     just around the Adam's apple
and to the sides?
   half an inch of width...
    the first shave i've had
for... 3 years?!
                the sensation is
still the same...
                  like walking
on a cool August night...
  in feet attire,
  that doesn't require socks...
and isn't,
a pair of moccasins either.