I slip down the looping slopes of your curly hair.
Just when I think I'll stop,
the curve of your scented mane flips me upside down.
I shout with happiness, like a child in an amusent park.
I walk, I roam, I run-
I travel through every path of your soft, black hair.
And when the ride ends, I'm already crazy to slip again.
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 5:32 PM UTC
I slip down the looping slopes of your curly hair.
Just when I think I'll stop,
the curve of your scented mane flips me upside down.
I shout with happiness, like a child in an amusent park.
I walk, I roam, I run-
I travel through every path of your soft, black hair.
And when the ride ends, I'm already crazy to slip again.
Hello, guys. I'm begginer in poetry and english is not my native language, so don't expect of me too much.