Keep it growing
My love, don't cut your hair,
don't make your beauty shorter,
just let it grow and let me hide in it,
to ever worship what this richness stands for:
generosity and sweetness,
light, delight and affluence,
the constant growth of nature's finest purity,
the symbol of your very personality,
the most profound enigma
veiled up in a mystery
that never can be fathomed
without opening an abyss
of a bottomless eternity of darkness –
let me seek protection from that peril
by escaping into that unfathomable beauty
of your hair, so ultimate a perfect hiding-place,
the only absolute protection
against anything that ever bothered me.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2009-12-05 at 12:08
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