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Hair

hair was always an issue she said
I don’t know why
she didn’t explain
but I would gladly exchange
her wild silver-dust dreads
for my tame mouse stubble
and what wouldn’t I give
for her warm burnished skin
rather than the chalk wrap
that encloses me

we walked scattering the
autumn leaves with our thoughts
our memory-laden shadows
one colour

first published in the Cork Literary Review 2007
and in Lines in the Sand - Bradshaw Books 2008