the best poem of all poems.

[supersharmie]

neil gaiman’s hair
by leah masterson and sharmylae taffe-fletcher

your hair
like a cloud of greyish darkness
i want my face in it
but your face is there

whispers of smoke in the middle of the night
it haunts my dreams
like morpheus does to... everyone

ne’er touched by brush nor comb
yet indie chic at every signing
just out of bed
tousled by love
...and sleeping
also probably because you don’t brush it

many attempt to duplicate
no one succeeds
your hairstyle is unique
like a bad hair day
or a snowflake, though we have no way of confirming this

really? checking every snowflake?
time consuming.
i’d rather check out your hair

your hair is free
like bees
but not the ones you keep
the ones who are free

angels would be jealous
of your casual scruffiness

why?

this is a poem leah and i just wrote just now inspired by this article: http://www.tor.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=blog&id=19999

okay back to work!

edit: OMG.

i opened up my email to find this:

that was hilarious! thank you for making me smile

n

from neil gaiman. we squee'd. and now have plans to print him out a nice copy all creepy-like and give it to him. :)