"I notmally like darker hair on girls,
But with you it's different," he says.
I've seen the way you look at it,
When I'm playing with my hair,
As I'm twirling it around my fingers.
The look that you give.
It is the look of a dog,
When he's staring right at you
While you are eating something.
The look of wanting. Desire. Temptation.
And you want to play with it.
You desire my golden locks.
As if the colour had anything to do with your temptations.
From being told "I don't usually go for blondes"
— The End —