Hair in front of my eyes

Your hair waves in front of my eyes so that I can't see anything else
they are the curtain
you're the play
I'm the enthusiastic crowd mesmerised crowd
that would like to slip a note to the whisperer:
would you go on a date with me
to the world where the stars are shining brighter than the sun
where the sough of the trees mutes the airplanes
but the interlude comes before the beginning
you disappear in to the back room
but your hair waves in front of my eyes
they smell like I feel like washing my teeth
with the first buds of the Spring
and slur in the middle of it like a bear
if this wind gets any stronger
your hair will soon be in my mouth
but it gets calmer,
I'd like to kiss your hair
each one individually

I fantasize you in the shower
the shampoo runs down your spine, a rapid river
eyes closed you dive through the waterfall,
it's way too much for me
and when I get back to my seat
your hair waves in front of my eyes
I'd like to grab them, pull you into my lap
and take care of you like you were a tiny mouse
but then the play starts
the stage gets full of roles with no performers
they all yell on top of each other while
they are pulling your hair down with their teeth to make room
the set pieces are slowly coming into light
it is midnight there and many windows burn with fluttering candles
from these dark apartments
people come down to the street hanging on to ropes made of your hair
they end up having a quiet conversation
under the darkened street lights
whether there's time
for a bedtime story tonight

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