deepundergroundpoetry.com
3/3/22
My fingers
Have been pretending
To be yours
All day
But my hair knows
They’re not the same
It’s a shame
Have been pretending
To be yours
All day
But my hair knows
They’re not the same
It’s a shame
Published 7th Mar 2022
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The author encourages honest critique.
This actually really spoke to me.
I’ve done the long distance thing a couple of times in my life, and there was one instance when I’d miss them so much, I’d put my hand on my other hand in the dark and imagine it was theirs. Sad, and comforting all at the same time.
I have a complete love affair with hands, so this idea of hands becoming one and the same just filled me with an indescribable happy sigh.
The next bit is interesting — of the hair knowing it’s not the same. I pondered that for a bit. It made me think about how you can put hands into the hair to feel the presence of a person, but you can’t really place hair in the hands and have it mean the same level of intimacy. They are two polar opposites of affection.
That’s where it all took my mind anyway. This is a stunning little snippet.
Thank you for sharing.
-M
I’ve done the long distance thing a couple of times in my life, and there was one instance when I’d miss them so much, I’d put my hand on my other hand in the dark and imagine it was theirs. Sad, and comforting all at the same time.
I have a complete love affair with hands, so this idea of hands becoming one and the same just filled me with an indescribable happy sigh.
The next bit is interesting — of the hair knowing it’s not the same. I pondered that for a bit. It made me think about how you can put hands into the hair to feel the presence of a person, but you can’t really place hair in the hands and have it mean the same level of intimacy. They are two polar opposites of affection.
That’s where it all took my mind anyway. This is a stunning little snippet.
Thank you for sharing.
-M
7th Mar 2022 11:59pm
I love this comment. Thank you. There is a thing with me and her where we squeeze each other's hair. Not pull it. Squeeze it, like a sponge. Somehow, it's really become a powerful little thing. And when I've been away from her for a while, I find myself squeezing my hair.
