It is cold, tonight;
outside, the wind snarls, rattling the doors,
looking for a way in, but
here,
I feel your warmth.
In the center of the bed we share, we sometimes meet,
entwining limbs, trading secrets, trading heat, then
recoiling,
wary of the flame.
We turn away and sleep,
back touching back.
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Ann Nichols
Frank Michels
Jimmy Zuma
Maureen J Andrade
dramaqueen09
Writer to the Stars
Salon.com
Comments
I hope it stays warm for you both.
R.
back touching back.
Unfortunate that that's the only way to get some sleep. :-D
A poem that warms on a chilly autumn day - thanks for that.
Rated.
Rated.