when lust is dead, <br />and routine pollutes the head, <br />lonely is your heart, <br />unused is your bed. <br /> <br />Embark on a romance with words <br />toy and tease, search and squeeze, <br />each letter till <br />A perfect body presents itself, <br />upon the page, <br />something special, <br />created out of poetic rage. <br /> <br />When the heart cries out for love, <br />remember the words from above, <br />open the wounds, <br />and let the weepy words, <br />splash out onto the welcome white. <br />When the mind searches for <br />soft sweet memories in the sleepy night, <br />then my friends it time to write. <br /> <br />Unlike brief sexual gratification, <br />a writers satisfaction, <br />does not need compliments to appease. <br />unlike human bodies, <br />the body of a poem, <br />does not need cosmetics <br />to stir the hearts of those who, <br />compose, and view. <br /> <br />yet long into this cold rainy night, <br />it is not words i need its you.<br /><br />Not Long Left<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bodies-poems-and-hers/
