Hair check

I still check my hair before I see you
Still conscious of my crooked smile when talking with you
Still notice you noticing me
And still untrusting of the way you play with your hair
With baby steps you ask what I'm doing later
But your pride is a predator, which slowly corners you when we're apart

I still check my hair before I see you
But less so reply to dead end messages
(As I can now recognise those sent from the predator)

- Sleeps