Thick shock of jet black hair,
sprawled languidly on white domes of hard mass,
stuck to skin with offshooting pores,
sprouting from umpteenth prickly roots,
sizzle in hot rays of the Sun,
heating their periphery with flashes of fire,
scorching patches of flesh on which they stand,
with readily absorbed natural solar energy,
hairy follicles shine in radiance,
parted to high degrees of comfort,
compressed by electric hot wind guns,
blowing air over silky strands,
shaping them to angled perfection,
with abundant supply of white allergic powder,
sliding down the black stalks,
filling virgin cavities with white plagued dust,
an obnoxious termite for the natural sheath of black,
an alien relative of disdainful proportion,
resulting in premature wearing of hair mass,
shrinking, shrivelling, withering, the most precious component,
of breathing souls,
the only solution being,
mega sized hollow glass bottles,
tightly corked and transparent,
filled with aromatic hair oil.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
