I think my nerve endings are deeply concentrated,
In the wild tangles of my hair.
Their impetuous synapses fire at the slightest touch.
My soft, hair brush sliding like a slab of butter,
Across the glistening stream of black,
(Like the soft dreamy caress of a soft dreamy lover,)
Making me shiver with pleasure.
Hair clips, bands and scrunchies patiently,
Holding back a blowsy, frizzy tantrum.
Cool coconut oil rubbed gently into the roots,
In slow, figure of eight movements,
Rhythmic and hypnotising.
Like a symphony, a musical score,
Putting me to sleep instantly, a lullaby without words or music.
My fingers loving each inch of my starved scalp to life.
And then worshipping my curls,
With cold water and margosa-scented shampoo,
The bubbly foam tickling my head,
The liquid love nuzzling,
My hair swells up with love and gets so heavy.
And lies straight and obedient.
My hair's a flighty little shrew,
But I can't deny the joy she brings to my life.
Thank you for reading!!!!💖💖
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NEPENTHE
PuisiHi there! The word NEPENTHE means anything that induces forgetfulness of sorrow or pain. I, for one, believe that little things like smiles, my mother's comfort food and long walks are the best forms of nepenthe around. These poems celebrate the s...
