Brushing Your Hair

When I’m lonely
And feel like
Cashing in my chips,
When I’m melancholy
Beneath autumn street lights,
When my voice quivers
Talking about you
With a friend,
I know, I’d still
Fall in love with you again
If only I could
See you on the beach
Or brushing your hair
Before a mirror.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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