Wednesday, October 14, 2015
The Oil Massage
When she soffles my tangled hairs,
I could feel her warmth and love there,
very tenderly her fingers move to unravel the layers,
then she spill oil to massage with care.
Her soft experienced fingers moves everywhere,
lectures me to take hair care,
my headache vanishes with her tips shared.
She then ties a plait tight telling me-
It will improve my hair texture bright,
but I hate the way the oil drips,
soaks the pillow cover with its bliss,
hairs pressed together with a sober look,
but I want a curly model outlook,
that it would swing in the air to fall in my dimpled cheeks
and cover my lips with the shampooed hair! ! !
Topic(s) of this poem: hair