Braided

Like ankles
submerged in a
fast flowing stream,
parting the
cold water's tresses,
my calloused fingertips
comb...
Gliding along scalp,
falling
down strands,
his hair still sinewy- moist
from a morning shower.
I mumble about how,
when hair is wet, it
almost
comes alive,
and the stiffness
in his spine,
with a shiver,
melts.
As his loosened head
droops,
he whispers of tangles
I've not yet found...
A smile flickers
on his pale cheeks;
land and sky converge,
swimming
into eachother,
as my eyes draw shut.

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