today, i cut
your hair again,
i grazed my hands through
your mop enveloped
my finger tips
lingered on
the familiar
tender touch
of your soft locks,
folded over your ear,
holding your beauty,
our wholeness,

i held a piece gingerly
and felt its weight,
yearning for the luscious
i traced the locks
one last time,
as they fell to
the nape of your neck,

i couldn’t stop
my lust,
engrossed by my desire to swallow
you whole
i clenched your tufts tightly,
how could i let go?
one final grasp,
before they’d fall to
the tattered tile floor,

the crisp blade teasing me,
finally I
clutched my scissors,
sharp enough to score your skin,
gripping your scalp
I sheared,
and clipped through
every last scrap and chunk
bitterly snipping
seeking comfort in fragments,
until it was done

and I was done
and your hair was gone
and all that remained was you
and the dead clumps
scattered along the floor.