Get Your Premium Membership

Hair Brush

It fits in your palm like flesh, its firm plastic handle the color of his skin. Its bristles tingle your scalp, pass through your hair, your tresses like fingers of a lover. Remember how he eased that new word across his lips: golden tresses, giving you the beauty of your hair.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs