It's the glisten at the light, 

That small glimmer of a perfectionist.

The dark waves and the pale surface,

a red sea with murky waters.

It falls to the arches, 

it caresses to the skin.

The silk and satin that it rests on,

like a red sea with murky waters.

I drown when i rest,

I fathom the next stroke and with anticipation,

I weave one lock with the other.

Down the arches,

to caress the skin.

That small glimmer of a happiness,

My world.

It rests against the pale skin,

it etches across the dark brows.

That Auburn Hair.