We used to have contests to see who could make the best nests in each other’s hair.
Naturally, your nests were award winning-
We’d emerge from bed, spent and re-born
And in the mirror, an applauding crowd of spectators stood standing along our satisfied, flushed reflections.

Those nests would take eons to untangle-
Partly, because honestly –they were ridiculous.
How in the hell did you move so fast as to sculpt worlds from strings on my scalp?
Partly, because they were funny, and it is a small, rare delight to look in a mirror and know the smile across is actually two,
But mostly because, truly- I was quite fond of the fingers that made them-
Ungraceful, to be sure
But some of the best imperfections I’ve known.