The Braids

Summer Solstice began this ritual of me and you
I sit quietly on the edge of
My long black hair separates in wet strands
The heat raises suffocating reason
Slowly I fold you into my hair
Twist and turn
Closing you in the narrow of this thought
Making a weapon for you later
My movement andante
With the meditation of you
It is mid-day afternoon
Climbing upon your tight sheet entrance
This door is closed for the day
Mine left open
My body making a dent in the pillows

I pull my hair
Remembering your loyalties
Wrap my tangle in your drunken whisper
I fall over into you
Pressing into myself
Where only I can reach and you warm
From a distance