Not much more than fuzz on the top
He keeps it buzzed on the sides and back
Bright and almost translucent then
fading to soft brown
But it’s not the hair on his head that I love.
Around his perfect bow lips
Blonde and red and brown hairs sprout
A surprising cowlick under his chin
with hair curling toward the right
I just want to nuzzle on his beard.
When he hugs me, I get chills
Short, bent hairs grazing my neck.
My arms wrapped tightly around his neck
and his arms locked together around my waist
And in my neck, his chin… His beautiful chin.
I trace my fingers across the tips
explosions of nerve endings in my fingers.
Follow the edge, along his jawline
all the way back to his soft ear lobes.
I could spend days touching his face.
And then I feel him on the inside of my knees,
the tops of my thighs,
Up my arms, pass my elbows…
It’s an impossible feeling to recreate
in those sad spaces when we’re apart.
Ke$ha ruined the phrase, but really
I loved when he told me I dye my beard, I do love his beard.
It might be one of my most favorite things