Have you ever had fingers run through your hair?
Not in the nice, sexy kind of way.
Not in the, "Pull it back while I claw at your skin," kind of way.
Not in the, "Lay down next to me and whisper in my ear," kind of way.
I mean in the awkward kind of way.
The, "Sit down and shut up," kind of way.
The, "Your body is a museum and I am a curator," kind of way.
No?
Maybe I should try it one day.
When everyone with hair like mine
suddenly becomes obsessed with
hair like yours
after centuries of telling you
how ugly your hair is.
Maybe I should.
Maybe then you'll know what it's like.
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