The Language of her hair

remembering a lost love

The Language of her hair

Coiffed and elegant she lies
within the confines of my eyes
So long ago and far away
although it seems like yesterday
that she avowed undying trust
in love and hope, in faith and lust
I wrote I need you in her tresses
along the seams sewn in her dresses
I printed kisses on her brow
I wonder if she knows them now
I hope she lived though I have not,
remembering as she forgot
who I am and what we had
I wrote it all, the good,the bad
and kissed her nape to sign my name
before she left and as she came.