I once had long hair.
It was as long as a ruler's end,
and black in comparison to sunglasses' shelter-
following the tips of that mesmerizing glow,
and the palpable scent of shampoo slips
carelessly through the gaps of my ink-black hair.
(( I watch the hair begone, as
the hairstylist snips it off; concentrating,
that hair had been with me through
the walks of years in my passing growth. ))
A new urge of growing it back that
only your crescent-beauty smile could suggest.
was what i decided to do,
it belonged to me so long time ago, it was mine-
I want it back.