Hair: like bondage
it
wraps wraps
and and
wraps
and and
wraps wraps
and and
wraps
and and
wraps wraps
around the arms and
not only stops movement
but it slows down time
Bound by the hair on God's knuckles, it forces
them to reflect on every memory they
wish they could forget; thus, the
enjoyment in pulling out
your hair is found.
I know it hurts but
continue sipping love nectar
until you're
unrecognizable
be my bitch be what I'm looking for
and water me
©2015
Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.
for Poetics
for Poetics