This body.
Oh god, this body.
This body I'm trapped in.
This body that makes me stand in front of my dirty mirror
and scrutinize every mistake.
This body that feels like a worn down building,
that is crumbling with every breath I take.
I am stuck with this body.
But you are not.
This body is not your burden to carry, to love, to hold.
Yet, you do it anyways.
And when you do all I can think is,
Oh god, this body.
This body that gets to feel every kiss you give,
every touch you offer,
every shivering breathe you exhale onto my skin.
You rebuild this old building into a sacred temple that you see worthy of worship.
And oh god, this body.
I hate it, but with every heart beat you press against me,
I know I can learn to love it.
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Comments4
Beautiful poem, g.c! Well written declaration of how under appreciated our sacred earth vehicles are.
Thank you!
My wife is aging. We are in our late 70's. She has similar thoughts. All I see is beauty. Nicely done
Aw thank you!
My wife is aging. We are in our late 70's. She has similar thoughts. All I see is beauty. Nicely done
HI SWEETHEART ~ Pleased you found some inspiration ~ this is a sensuous and sincere poem. When I make love to a Lady ~ her age and the "state" of her body is much less important than her RESPONSE ! To my touch ~ to my kisses and licks ~ to my appreciation of her secret places ~ to her body language as she opens her love portals to me ~ and her satisfaction in every aspect of "loving" and afterglow. If you are satisfied then I always am. Your poem expresses the infinite joy of intimate love ! Thanks for caring & sharing ~ Yours BRIAN XOX
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