There is something
So intimate
That deals with the
Top of your head
Well
Not the exact top
But that spot
Right there
Beneath that thick
Blanket of hair
And my fingers
They can comb through your hair
All day
And you could be
Content
Like a kitten
Purring
But when I find it
And I always know where
I curl my fingers
Deep into your dark tresses
You stop
No longer content
But that glutteral
Deep noise
You make
When I dig deep
Scraping my fingertips
Across scalp
Pulling hair
Slowly
Massaging
Pulling up
Muscles tensing
Your body
Rigid and tense
As a surprising shiver
Runs down your spine
Goosebumps
On your skin
And then just as suddenly
It stops
And the need grows
I see it
Your eyes
Your soul
The want
The need
For my fingers in your hair