You ask if my hands are
Cold.
They’re still warm.
I’m warm blooded.
I’m warm hearted.
Your hands are now on my
Body.
Your fingers are entwined into my veins
Your solid eyes are ice
Seeping through my wincing soul.
You’re all upon my
Skin.
I run away
To a place never before
Where my crescent moon is gone
And the sun doesn’t stay.
I find a way
back to common
Ground
But my hands are cold.
You’re cold blooded.
You’re cold hearted.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
You ask if my hands are
Cold.
They’re still warm.
I’m warm blooded.
I’m warm hearted.
Your hands are now on my
Body.
Your fingers are entwined into my veins
Your solid eyes are ice
Seeping through my wincing soul.
You’re all upon my
Skin.
I run away
To a place never before
Where my crescent moon is gone
And the sun doesn’t stay.
I find a way
back to common
Ground
But my hands are cold.
You’re cold blooded.
You’re cold hearted.
