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Dear warmth,

May you rub your back against my shoulder
‘til the windows mist with condensation,
and we fall back into youth, hiding
away from the older.

May your temperature, rising to the point
of red cheek puncture, provide an oasis
under the sand of duvet’s cover.

May your hair whip around like every
flame I’ve ever seen, no agenda or judgement,
just sheer ecstasy and  excitement.

May you conjure up that lone shower feeling,
that one where for a brief slot in time everything
you know and have become floats away through
that extractor fan, out into the air- climbing higher.

May you provide that gasp of heat that
hits the cook in the face, after opening the oven’s
gate in hunger and haste.

May you be that holiday sun I always seek.

May you be the metal womb of  a car when
outside in the myriad hospital world
where it’s cold.

May you be humorous and humid and
totally lovely to be with.

May you be a heated conversation and argument
and disagreement, that torment of words
I need to hear.

May you be my laugh that bubbles up
from the volcano underneath.

May you be the heat caused by key
and lock, that one that stops
others from coming in and making
for ruin.

May you be that first sip of  ‘the
most civilised thing in the world’, as
Hemmingway put it, and let it ignite
a dance below.

May you not judge the mixture
of my grape and grain, and my love
for walking in the rain and my waiting for
ex-girlfriends every time they call.

May you always let me bed down
in that manger in the snug, though
Steve doesn’t know I borrowed his
blanket rug.

May you forever toast that bread
at midnight, just before bed.

Yours faithfully,
The Cold.
from www.coffeeshoppoems.com > ALWAYS LOOKING FOR SUBMISSIONS
 Feb 2013 Jennifer Freya
August
All the water in the world couldn't drown my sorrows.
I am self-conscious about my body
There is something about strangers on the street
Looking me down, chasing me down, asking for my number before asking for my name
That I have never liked a little bit
Not even at all

It makes me more self-conscious than I already am
I don't have a perfect body
I pick at the skin on my thumbs and they're permanently scarred and that makes holding hands as difficult as finding my heart under the trees I planted in my liver to shield it from the sun of my lover because I couldn't bear the thought that I wasn't as beautiful as him

I have a small chest
I heard once
That the first thing men notice about a woman is her eyes, and the first thing women notice about men is that they are a bunch of liars
So these strangers must notice that
And it gives me anxiety to wonder why they would still have an interest

There is nothing striking, beautiful, or breath-taking about me
Until I speak (I think)
My personality makes up for everything else
At least, I try to make it so
But you don't know me

So why are you chasing a short, ordinary, nobody across the street
What am I to you?
What do you see in me?
I heard the hiss of a snake
When you asked if I could forgive this mistake
The serpent sound your lips would make
Still fresh with the taste
Of his skin
Hide your fangs in your grin
Your forked tongued fallacies
That drain the life out of me
Black coffee so bitter
As I imagine you slip and slither
Under the covers of another
You'd call us star crossed lovers
Heavy handedly putting  the blame on outside sources
My heart feeling the forces
Of gravity
Tear pull and grab at me
Pinned to this seat
As you taint I love you with deceit
Legs fail me I am trapped from leaving
Heard the hiss of a snake when you were breathing...
Be careful dear,
I am just a match looking for kindling.
Hopefully you don't mind getting burned.
I'm smiling out of no reason,
talking to your pictures
for I don't have the courage
to talk to you in person,
I'm writing a letter I won't send,
every time I see you
my heart skips a beat
and it's a fact that I'm so stupid.

There were times I dialed your number,
but then I just canceled it, my choice,
well, it seems so hard for me
to hear even a single word
from your voice,
I can't speak what my heart
is beating so loud,
and it's a fact that I'm still
hiding in the clouds.

It's the unusual me,
and I don't even know it,
honestly, I'm always a coward
when it comes to you,
my smiles couldn't conceal
these feelings I feel for you
and it's a fact that I'm here
just waiting.

Waiting for the right time, I guess.
TORPE (adj.)
- a Filipino word meas being too shy to pursue amorous desires.
- shy with the opposite ***.
- the word TORPE is used to describe young men who don't know how to approach the girls they like. Sometimes even an attractive man who is confident in other aspects of his life can be seen as TORPE when it comes to girls.

All Rights Reserved © 2013
Crisp and clear Alberta Mornings
The beauty brings me to my knees
sun rising over prairies
dew glistens on the wheat

Blue sky mixed with morning starlight
it's a sight that can't be beat
for all 40 years I've been here
there is no other place for me

The mountains maintain my direction
prairies stretch out to the east
northern lights are alway dancing
on clear central eve's

Winding rivers divide prairies
rolling hills and forest too
fresh scents pervade my senses
that's when I think of you
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