Alive
On these women I know,
Hair is alive.
A separate living thing,
Moving each tiny glimmering screen,
Having planned, controlled and subtle ways,
Using the wind and sun as its agents.
Playing me with gold and brown.
No strand is the same color twice.
The whole world is there for me.
So, I am lost.
My drug is you,
Deafening me,
Gently numbing me.
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