Hair

Her hair was long Down to that place where ass just barely meets back The place his fingers linger Every time she says goodbye The place where two tiny dimples make up for the fact she never smiles Long like the days he spends Wondering if she's happy at home wondering if she's just as good at pretending to be in love As she is at pretending not to be Like the time he spends waiting for a sign from her... or of her Long like her absence in his bed He hears her laughter in his head He'd settle for hearing her name Her hair was thick Like the way his tongue feels after a midnight pack of camels She says she doesn't smoke anymore But she does Because she says a naked man can't smoke alone It looks funny Thick like her thighs And silky smooth when they graze his stomach Like his great grandmother's accent He doesn't understand her but finds comfort in the texture of the syllables Her hair was strong Like her conviction Her determination to stay at home where she belongs Though she longs to be with him Strong like the coffee she brews Because she's too rebellious to measure anything Coffee grounds or consequences Like his addiction His compulsion to reign her in To keep her in his bed In his heart In his head Her hair is dark Like her eyes Black pools that reflect her black heart, rotten soul Dark like the way she makes love with the lights off Because then she can make him into anybody Whoever it is that she wants that day Dark like that space between waking and dreams Where everything is mixed up and nothing like it seems Where he reaches out to touch her and finds only hair A few strands on his pillowcase to remind him she was there He finds them everywhere Last night he found one wrapped around his big toe He freed himself but found it hard to let it go She says she hates to wear a ponytail Like she doesn't want her hair to look like a horse's rear end And he's just a jackass for letting her go again

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