untamed

a man with hair

almost as wild as him.

long, blonde curls

that he’ll try to tame in a ponytail.

I love them when they’re free.

when the breeze blows them to his face,

and I tuck them behind his ear.

as if its the most natural thing in the world

for him to talk so freely to me.

and I’ll always listen

and I’ll always insist he leaves his hair free

and I’ll always love him most untamed.