It's Your Body Warmth - Poem by Cynnd Rose
Every door you open, and beer you drink. I fall more deep in like with you. I can't stand the facts. I'm sensitive to what you feel.
I woke up this morning and I realized I had dreamed of you. I dreamed of you... and you were chasing me around like a puppy dog. We were laughing and you couldn't stop staring at me with that content expression.
Then I woke. I wish I coulda stayed content in my nightmare, its only a nightmare when I wake up
I love your body in my bed.
Or maybe I love the warmth you leave under the covers when I find myself alone in the defining sunlight. I love what you say, not the way you say. Just the very fact that your talking to me. you make feel special. When I can't prove it myself.
This feeling you give me is nothing. I'm lonely and all you do is keep me warm.
I've never loved, only touched. Never hated by, just stared at.
So, my heart is being caressed by a dog. I don't mind. For the heart is the biggest gift of all, and my heart you will never have. Because your mental capacity is that of an animal.
I should care. My mother would frown upon us. Sisters of the world would pry the empty bottle from my cold hand.
But- I can't find THAT man. I cannot. Not I.
All I have is men to feel. Men to run away from. Men to steal. Women to run from.
I wish I could love, even if for just a while in a dream I had about some man i hardly knew
Comments about It's Your Body Warmth by Cynnd Rose
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye