Disheveled Hair

What is it about disheveled hair on a woman in the morning that gets me? Is it because it’s a symbol of the past night’s escapades (use your imagination here) or that it sets the stage for the current days’ possibilities? Am I just intrigued by the mystery of what went on in her dreams in the middle of the night? Did she dream of me, of us? Was she happy? Was she excited? Was it a sex dream? Were we on an adventure, backpacking across Europe, camping out in the wilderness and making love under the stars? Were we in space, high above all other signs of life, just us two? Were we wearing spacesuits? I hope so…not safe otherwise. Were we in a secret underwater world, where everything is made of bright, glistening coral and the fish give you compliments all day, and your mode of transportation is sea turtles (don’t worry, they move faster underwater)? Or did she just dream of having a ring pop on every finger except they were real gemstones and she was rich? In any case, disheveled hair, especially when it shimmers in morning sunbeams…is one of life’s greatest gifts.