Hair

I painstakingly picked her hair from my jacket as I left, prying them away and letting the breeze decide a new home. But this time as I leave I no longer remove you from my jacket. Instead I cherish those discarded remnants, the last reminders slowly drifting away. I now meticulously cherish each hair as they become less and less. Praying it sticks around a bit longer; a drawn-out, hurtful goodbye. As I take off in this plane I know this will be the final time your hair finds its way to my jacket. As the last * insert hair color * strand frees itself I’ll find some solace that I was temporarily entangled in those fragments of you, and I hope that the next notices you within each perfectly misplaced hair attached to his jacket as you leave.