Hair

I cant wash him out of my hair
even though it has completely
grown new since the last time
his fingers stroked its
softness from my scalp to my hips-
I cut it all off and felt
naked and unprotected without its
fullness to hide behind-
but somehow he is there
deep in the root, forever-
and I cant unfeel his hands
no matter how many others have
stroked me cheek to toes
and everywhere inbetween
I can feel his fingers bringing
chills and goosebumps and wonder.
and I cant erase these scars
on my heart
my thighs
and wrists
every inch of me screams
with his memory.

“Hair”-11-27-13- jessicagadziala

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