hair on me, felt vain.

hair on me, felt extravagant,
foolish. like a curtain of pearls
that i must s-weeeep

                   clink
    clink
                          clink
clink
                ­ .....clink

out of my eyes, what a bother.

hair on me, felt vain.
hair is for loving,
loved, to love, with
length,
and length to be pulled on,
be taut
be supple and silk between the fingers. to be stroked, to come in strokes, to spill
over and tumble and tangle and knot,
and in every which way. from billowy to willowy wisps,

hair on me, felt vain.

it made me expect. it made me crave.
it needed to be swept, it needed to be maintained. it needed to be slept with, it needed to be played. it needed to be loved. and i had no love to spare, and especially no love to be gained.

hair on me, felt vain.

glimmering, shimmering, even when wet in the sullen rain. there was a yearning. a yearning to be made. a yearning to be touched. a yearning to become--

yes, you were beautiful. even wet, in the sullen rain

--something else, something more

beyond me
in that sullen rain. i turned, expecting nothing, perhaps even worse.

but there I saw, in the puddle,

you framed my face.
subtle, like petal. my cheek
rested in the crook of your
arm like perfect.

all
too
perfect.

I had to let you go
and so

snip
        snip
                 snip
snip
           snip
                     ....snip

i cut you away
piece by piece
like an unsatisfied lover

(we loved, we loved, it wasn't, enough)

each snip resounding,
each snip more definite

(we loved, we loved, but it wasn't, enough)

you fell away
the way winter falls away into spring,
spring falls away into summer,
summer falls away,

you fell away and i almost despised
how beautiful you looked,
there on the floor

in death, in defeat.

but that made me all the more certain,

you were not for me. even in death.
even in defeat.

hair on me, felt vain.
hair on me, felt extravagant.

hair on me, demanded love
and i would have none of it.