haircut


Come to me, wet head fair, and
I do it-
make a good place for your wits;
tend soft
fine face with fingertips.

Snip

an eyelid up at me-
me, stalkingsteel and
wary
haunches
heel.

And now hands and metal and
strokes
dry
on
steady thick neck so
Earthpainted.

No,
wryly risk this press-against-flanks and
up
his look
fawn
flays me with (olive flash)
a trivial honey lash.

Honey I,
I touch your heavenly hairs,
and breathe them away.
Aroundmoves, over you working
closer-
close enough
to calm me to prose:

given his hot head to dine upon;
promise of
mind inside to come.