I remember how I braided my little sister's hair,
trying to weave my love into each plait.
When her long blonde locks would knot,
I would brush and spray as I tried to untangle it,
While she cried, 'I don't want to have to cut it out.'
Many years have passed, my hair now long.
I can't help but wonder, or rather, hope,
That one day she will say the same about me:
'I used to braid my sister's hair,'
And I'll know her love is a knot
that will never come out.
ČTEŠ
SWEET DESIRE: POEMS & PHOTOGRAPHS
PoezieSweet Desire: Poems & Photographs" by Jade Ozma Ashwood is an exquisite fusion of poetic eloquence and visual artistry, inviting readers on a profound exploration of the intricate landscape of human emotions and desires. This captivating collection...
