I.
...he's lovin' my salt n' pepper locs
the feel of merino
my "fleece peace"
infatuated with every twist-
intertwining finger and strand
he slips them into a bright orange oil and
amber flames light the atmosphere
forming a smoky
tangerine cloud
with every swing and sway
of my head
a marigold falls from HEAVEN...
No comments:
Post a Comment