I felt your fingers touch my hair,
a faint breeze in the summer blaze – but yet still there
I wondered why you felt the need
to reach out and explore me so intimately.
Could it be curiosity got the better of you
about the coarseness of my hairdo?
Or is it that history makes you inebriated with liberty
to place your stranger’s hand upon me?
Whatever the reason, please let me say,
touching other people is unwarranted exploration.
And even if my hair were to look a fright,
It won’t make molesting my mane all right.
Andersen, Hyacinth. "No Auction." Black Magnolias Literary Journal, 7:3 (2013) 54
About the Creator
Hyacinth Andersen
I write poetry, fiction, and nonfiction.
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