Prompt for August 8: The Brush


[prompt from

Swish. Swish.
Soft numbers muttered between smiling lips.
Protective hands guiding, petting, untangling.
Swish. Swish. Swish.

How I long for those days when
Daddy would brush my hair every night.
Making it soft, silky, shiny even
In the low light of my bedroom.
There was strength in his gaze,
The promise of never getting hurt
As long as it was just us. The
Brush was his magic wand,
Bestowing on me his power
With each stroke through my
Curly maple locks, power I
Wish stayed with me and came
To my aid when the low light faded into darkness.


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