Two twisted ropes
young
ripened
hair
jumping
twirling
giggling
squealing
lengthy brown
cuts
length covers
the truth
scented as innocence
in white cloaked
purity
misleading
boys
girls
men
women
thick strands would lay
gentle across
hairy chests
lace
bare breasts
camouflaging promiscuity
as tender
bloody
raw pieces of
a heart
one-by-one
single strands fell
attaching faithfully
to each different
fingerprint that combed
intimacy down
down
down
to the bottom of every
tiny
split
end
desertion
so subtle
so discreet
went unnoticed
but
thinned
dissipated
to
nearly stark
abolishing
fabricated scents
publishing
scandalous stories
wrapped around
fingertips
lovers
who loved
innocent hair.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 
Very intense! Well done and sad.
XO. Jen
Easy to wonder if this is a kind of biography.. It is amazing how our hair changes with time. More noticable than the skin.
A nicely woven poem
That is just so clever!! xxx
I liked that a lot. Nice.