Dupuytren's Contracture

You don't let your fingers run
at the back of my head anymore
Chasing my lengthy pulse with your short nails
How my skin wept as you cut them
and how your icy palm left my neck sweltering

And so I must ask
how come you don't let those tireless fingers run
at the back of my head lately
My bristles are longing
Forever your fingertips are etched in my memory

And so I ask
+rightfully so+
why is it that your fingers no longer run
at the back of my head

The tingle is long gone
I still ache to twist your arm

Won't you indulge me
as to why you no longer run
your fingers at the back of my head