When she
thinks hard
she looks down
and hides her mouth against
her index finger
what she
scents there
lavender and
garlic and
my wavy hair
that's the only way
I know the smell of
my own hair
her in her white shower
in the morning
her in her red kitchen
at noon
her in her happy picnic place
in the afternoon
with my head in her lap
and her fingers through my hair
and me holding her
small hand
to my lips
her on me on her.
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