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izi Jul 2020
Love is reckless, not brave,
Love is selfish and selfless all in one,
Love is faithful, stupid, kind,
Love is all the simple things, but rewind

And love is pain, confusion,
Love is a battle won but a soul lost,
Love is a storm, the pelting rain like stones
Love is the plunging distance between the sky and the ocean.

Love is the touch of skin on skin,
Smiles and laughter at the end of the day,
Crackling bonfires and whispers of secrets,
The smell and texture of her hair.

Love is the sound of bullets firing,
Love is the feeling of dirt between toes,
Love is the groggy bewilderment of morning,
Love is the walk down a hill washed with dew.

Love is being late to all meals, except for dessert,
Love is passing plates around, clinking silverware,
Love is the scrape of chairs and static of noises,
Love is the shape of his eyes when he glances around.

Love is the smell of the air after the rain,
Love is the droplets running down his face,
Love is the pen brushing across the paper,
Love is the bunk beds and sleeping bags and chatter.

Love is the sky, the river, the mountain, and the meadow,
Love is the flashlights’ light and the stars brighter,
Love is the loneliness in the field of the empty night,
Love is the loose circle of young and old.

Love is lullabies at night, crevices of her face,
Love is the sound of soft rain against the roof,
Love is the breeze blowing through the open window,
Love is teasing and joking and breathless joy.

Love is a warm feeling in the chest,
An intertwining of fingers, a touch to the hair,
Love is a braid coming undone gradually,
Love is a heart that is beating endlessly.
Dinesh Padisetti Jul 2020
Choose me one day
Instead of all those men
Take me home and
Make love like there's no tomorrow

Let's not fall asleep
Reading each other's heart out
All those poems we wrote
Fo people we'll never meet
She was a goddess indeed...
Maria Etre Jul 2020
“(Go)rgeous morning sunrise”
between (t)he m(o)untains
glittering (the) dusty pollen
(la)mi(n)ating her gol(d)en hair
“**** woman for teenage boys”
rich with magic and gilded with lust
(where poetry is you and me).
undermyfeet Jul 2020
I can spend all day
Playing with my hair

My curls and my straights
And the occasional knots

Watching with disappointment
As they slither down my hand

My fingernails against my scalp
Gripping the hair, calculated firmness

I could tear some out
If I wished to
Michelle Cronin Jul 2020
Look at the length, look at the colour.
Its gone from short and purple, to unruly and red!
With more then a hint of grey.

I'm not that vain but oh what a pain.
To have 3 months of bad hair days.
Counting down to a colour and re style

Will it be pink will it be blue?
Should I have highlights or low lights?
I can't decide its getting so near.

Hubby said I'll give you a trim,
Hand me the scissors, I'll use the sheers.
No fear I wait till the hair dressers open
I'm to vain to look like a goat a sheep or a deer.
waiting for  hair colour and cut
Serendipity Jul 2020
Her frizzy hair
was simply
an invisble halo
being wrapped
in strands of gold.
Cari Alva Jul 2020
Your crown
Your power
Your security
Your confidence, when all else fails
But what if your crown starts to disintegrate?
Leaving you vulnerable, open to the mouths
Of dragons and daggers
Leaving you in shambles and distress
Fighting a war against the mirror
And feeling defeat as you surrender to the hairs
Around your feet
To shear? To accept?
With tears in your eyes
And clumps of hair in your hands
You are defeated.
Just Grace Jul 2020
Read to me
the story of the sun
and how our first lovers
were the stars

Your mind beams penetrate me
radiate my cells
pump my blood

I'd swim in my hair
like you do

Some melodies
don’t need a literal space, you see
world traveler,
you don’t know this place

I like that
you can’t give me an animal
intercepted patterns
trim
unchartered moments
primally coded
in me and you
Don’t be afraid
Whatever happens
it’s only Love
Justine Louisy Jun 2020
Multiple braids equal multiple roots,
in the direction my fingers scoots.

Loose braids,
robust cornrow braids in a stack,
chanting all the way down my back.

A loose rope,
or a robust bridge.
You know which root to take….

Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
Still remember having braids in my hair (so much more easier to handle 🤣) Would you consider braids? 😊
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