There Is a Hair in the Bed
there is a hair in the bed
snagged in the sheet fibres
by the coil of its once braided curl
as long as the length
from finger tip to tip
as short as a sharp breath
there is a hair
there
between me
as dark as a polish winter
and you the colour
of dry summer skies
there is a hair in the bed
with a follicle bulb like a teardrop
and a sprout like a clipping
of conductive copper wire
the best part of six inches
of resistance
to my fat fingers
pinching
at the obvious question
why is there a hair
there
in the bed?
poem by Keith Valentine
Added by Poetry Lover
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