It Starts with Her Awkward Hairline, Poetry by Patri Wright

Genre: Sexy

It Starts with Her Awkward Hairline
by Patri Wright

the bit behind her ear, along the bone,

I accidentally on purpose stroke

as the comb starts to move freely. Her head

between my knees, a kiss on her lobe —

something she wouldn’t get in a salon —

and fingers that look for further lugs.

The part along her neck too, the transition

of neck and scalp, like beach and sea

where hairs grow upward. Once she

hid it from view, calling herself simian;

and now it’s a zone, one she says I made

for her, that wasn’t there before.

I kiss this too, following the teeth

and say: ‘Repeat: “I am beautiful.”’

She says: ‘You are beautiful.’ Still that’s

better than it was, as I work on her

one stage at a time. All that’s left now

is the style, and I start back with the comb,

fan out a fringe as she watches TV.

The filaments are the days we’ve got left.

Roots of silver I cover with cosmic blue.

And here an echo, almost unheard.

I did this for another. I was smaller.

We had an electric fire. She wore

rollers. And it was far from a chore,

rather utmost pleasure, untangling

strands until they flowed like rivers.

I still seem to know how much pressure

to apply, not to hurt a single nerve.

 

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