The Haircut

carnality completely
void of merit
when the end come
she holds my head
thereby when once
we were to become forever
once never to be removed
devoid of response
in a mirror
throwing sodden white blooms
without noticing
in every place
all around
completely incorrect
without noticing
with her hands
on either side
of my head
I cup the tears of children
in my palm
and at night
walk through puddles
of my own