Sex Hair

I wear my sex hair to work as if I was unaware

My frizz, kind of puffy, “call it volume” sex hair

I wear my sex hair as if it were a style

Kind of knotted, better yet call it kinky and wild

I wear my sex hair as if I’m in a rush

Jumped out of bed late, call it No time for a brush

I wear my sex hair as if it can’t be tamed

My curls less defined, say my natural is to blame

No reason ever given, none will ever be the wise

I choose to wear my sex hair, hence the reason for the lies

You see I don’t do my hair on purpose because I want last night to linger

I wear my sex hair like a badge because it’s wrapped around your finger

Every knot in place from the way you grab my hair from the back of my head

I can feel the smalls of my baby hairs stand up as if to reach for you in the bed

Your cologne lingers on your shirt and seeps into your skin

My hair takes a whiff and soaks the whole thing in

How I use my hair to hide my face while I’m riding you

And peek through my hair like curtains while I hear “ I love being inside of you”

My hair in the way when you want to see my love faces

I can feel you gently brush my hair out the way so your view it replaces

I love how my hair lays across your chest with me

As if to feel satisfied from the pulling you gave it

You see, my sex hair is a reminder of the intimacy we share

From the root of the scalp, to the tips of this hair- beautiful moments of pleasure represented by my sex hair