Your hair looks like an old black blanket covering on your head.
Like someone poured a bottle of olive oil on you.
Like a half-opened curtain
Walking on the floor, like the 5-year-old mop.
A Halloween costume, an inferior wig.
A mountain with only but plenty bushes.
Like the willow in the winter time
Like a towel burning incompletely
Like a Maltese Dog swimming in well
Like the time when Robinson came back home
Like Spaghetti with curry, salad being fried
Like a crocodile in dress.
Like some over-cooked noodles.
Like the teddy bear abandoned
A sweater being ripped
An octopus lying on the head
Like hundreds of seaweed at the coast
Like thousands of black threads
Like the thing I see when I finished washing plates,
A dish mop with full of oil and Palmolive.
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