Tight-spun golden curls clung to her head like a field of daisies, rebelling all but successfully at the conventional coiffure she tried to impose upon them.

The mask had left her hair somewhat damp, the curls clung to heir face and forehead.

The soft curls clung to his fingers, and he drew his hand away as though he'd been burned.

Her pulse raced, her damp, tousled curls clung to her forehead.

The long, blond curls clung to his face, wet with sweat.

Sweat made his black curls cling to his forehead, and his mustache gleam in the moonlight.

Her short curls, matted with perspiration, clung to her broad neck.

I saw his arms close about her, hers tighten around his neck; black hair touched the silken brown curls, their lips met, clung.

The fine rain had drenched his black hair so that the curls had tightened and clung close to his head.

The rain stopped and curls of thick, white clouds clung to the sides of the Blue Ridge mountains like baby possums clinging to their mother's tail.