by Joshua Perrett
Once darker than closed eyes, now lighter than a newborn’s, I know your time is ending. I guess I should say goodbye as I hold you, greying between my fingertips.
You were there, cold and sodden when I met her in the rain. You were there, clutched in her hands as we first made love. You were there, stood on end when I asked her at the altar. And you’re still here, if only just, the last thing I’ll part with.
So goodbye, hair, my oldest friend. There’s not much of you left as I lay you to rest, but there are memories in every follicle of my head, long and winding, full and thick. I’ll never forget you. When I look in the mirror, I wish you were back. But I’d rather you leave now before all colour is lost, and grey indecency makes a mockery of you. Only memory can outlive life. And you’re at the end of your life when you’re fading to light.