Through RuFus’ Eyes

By Nika

There is something about running my hands through Mae’s hair

That makes me think about daffodils, grandma’s biscuits and sweet potato pie

When Mae came swaying down that hot dusty street

On that blazing summer day

I wanted to lay out the red carpet, because in seeing her I imagined a queen

She wore a yellow dress and brown shoes,

what my mama would call sturdy brown shoes

because the heels were thick, seemed strong

There I was standing with the water hose in my hand trying to get the dust to settle

When Mae came smiling

And it’s then I noticed her hair, it was like a crown

It stood upright, kinky, black, inviting

She must have noticed me staring at it

Because she sweetly asked if I wanted to touch it

“Touch it”, she said, “it’s ok”

And I did.

I’ve never stopped touching it, twirling it, washing it

Soft and coarse, original, like Mae

It goes perfectly well with the twinkle in her eyes and her wide smile

It’s free, not cornered or boxed in

Soothing

Yea,  Mae’s hair is soothing

Even those times when the touch of hair on my hand gives rise to the heat within

Mae likes it when I rest my face atop her head in an embrace

It’s like a pillow, a fortress, like home

Like where I belong