Your hair is like a poem

Your hair is like a poem,

It flows from your crest,

It curls in a cadence.

It falls from your shoulders,

Its tiny feet dangling,

Dancing to the rhythm

Of your head moving,

Beating like gentle waves

Against the beach of your back.

Brushing across your face,

Opening,

Closing,

A curtain before a show,

A recital before a play,

Preparing the passion,

Announcing the drama,

Brush it away

And let me see.