Dark Tresses

Gentlemen prefer blondes... but gentlemen marry brunettes. ~Anita Loos


I am drawn to dark tresses, long shimmering dark tresses. Like an insect inextricably drawn to flickering light on a hot, windless, summer's night, drawn ultimately to its demise, I am drawn dark hair, to the exotic aura of a damsel adorned with dark locks, drawn with a force from which I find it nearly impossible extricate myself.

Dark is the hair of the orient, the mysterious orient, a place of hidden treasures, knowledge passed down through the ages. Dark hair captures that mystery, embodies that mystery, a mystery at once warning and beguiling, a mystery that implies danger, and I am drawn to danger.

Dark manes evoke images of women gliding unheard, cat walking through the tangle of jungle trees, evoke images of sensuous amazons adorned in animal skins on the prowl, hunting for food, for a man, hunting for either prey to satiate her hunger.

I am drawn to mystery because it engages my imagination, enjoy the tingle that is aroused by a hint of danger, drawn to the cat stalking in the jungle as it seeks out new prey, drawn to dark tresses.