Smooth by Cathrine Lødøen
I roll my finger through his silky black curls
Ooh so smooth silky black curls
I turn my head slightly to the right
and whisper
‘This dear daughter, this is beauty
this is beauty you play with
this is beauty you enjoy
pray for
live for and with this beauty
for large parts of your life
chunks
but never ever grow to trust it
never ever
do not give it your all
your you and your life
for this beauty isn’t pure
this beauty is purely smooth
see that woman over there?
The one speaking with your father
that, dear one, is his wife
she knows nothing of my fingers
running through his smooth
Ohh so smooth black curls
she knows nothing of his allowing it
or maybe she does
maybe she mirrors it all back to me as she runs her hand down the
smooth Ooh so smooth
waist line of your father’s
Life’. Rewind. Remind. Be mine.
