Tag Archives: an 18-year-old girl’s hair

An 18-year-old girl’s hair

Unaware as her hair
Brushes against my hand.
Pleasure rushes.
Then, again.
I maintain
My composure.
For a disclosure
Would embarrass both me and her.
And, after all its only her hair
That touches
My hand.

Middle-age clutches
At what can not be
For, you see
The truth
Is that age can not command
A youth
Who is unaware
Of the power of her hair
To excite delight
In a middle-aged man’s heart,
And find expression in art.