Long Hair and Romance

Long Hair and Romance

What is it about long hair on a lover that sends us grinding into the erogenous zone? Why do long locks “do it” for us?

After all, long tresses are far from practical between the sheets. The long hair gets laid on, caught up on body parts, pillows, and acts like a mooring so we can’t move our heads.

Still, it remains an aphrodisiac. There is something titillating about the cascade of hair along the back, across the shoulders. I mean, read a romance novel, and you’ll discover most of the women have tresses curling down their backs. Even worn up in a chignon, a woman’s long hair is alluring to men.

So why, as a single woman, have I shorn the locks from my scalp? I wrote a poem a few years ago, which might explain my curiosity. Like most stories, the verse tapped on my skull until I let it out. In retrospect, I see why.

She shaved her head.

To see what her skull looked like.

To be bare-boned.

Frill-less.

Staring into a full-length mirror without adornment.

That is self, she sighed.

So, she shaved her head to know if she thought herself beautiful.

From within, without the without.

Without the tresses to coquettishly en-veil breasts that are not coquettish.

Never were. 

But were hers.  Always.

Whether she shared them with her babes or her husband.

Her breasts now like the pile of auburn upon the bathroom floor.

Dropped.  Unnecessary.

She shaved her head.

For beauty’s sake.

To see her beauty.

Did I see my beauty when my chopped tresses dropped into the bathroom sink? Yeah, I did. With all my hair gone, I saw myself—the inner me shining out. It took courage to shear my head, especially since long hair is synonymous with sexy and beautiful. Yet, the poem I wrote years before contained some truth, after all.

I shaved my head to be bare-boned, to own myself.

~S.C. Dane

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