Sister me not

"Sister, hand me not your hands of ice.

Sister be my friend

let's strike pyres of dying ties

and keep warm

The world is already too cold."

.

She smacked her lip, powdering the edges. The lipstick was matte and blood red. It suited her the most of all lip shades.

She didn't need anything more, just a little dab here and there and she looked perfect.

She got a bottle of perfume which judging by the case was expensive, one of her admirers had gifted her and sprayed it as much that the fragrances rode every atom of air in the room and she heard a sneeze from behind. Salima.

She urrghed then apologized and she turned to see her sister's judging eyes like she was gazing at the devil itself.

She didn't want what it was with the girl, she was a bore, a fossil moralist living in the past,she could swear the women of bc era had more swag than Salima. She was always preaching to her what or what not to do.

Ignoring the look and adjusting the sleeve of her blouse,