Cold Bodies

Never was much good at staying in one place 

Nomadic living, a nomadic lover. 

Left the best to find more, I was only a child how was I to know that there were only cold bodies out there?

Moving in & out of people to find warmth,

Moving through lovers to feel anything. 

Cold bodies, skin touches skin with mind & soul miles away

Creating heat with our breath & friction, but still we always stay cold bodies. 

I am a nomad, 

Moving through people & places, 

Leaving as soon as it gets too comfy. 

I am a nomad,

Drunk on exploration, 

But all I ever find are cold bodies. 

Calling myself a lone wolf, 

I find comfort in isolation. 

Are we born with this craving for solitude?

Or adopted from burnt flesh,

Getting too close to flames & leaving a lingering discomfort in closeness?

Because we got close & now I am fucking hurting. 

The lord did call premarital sex a sin, 

But I thought I could play my own God. 

Attempts at creating my own happiness, 

But bodies are only warm from the core,

And I guard mine closer than Shepards did sheep, still expecting to find warmth. 

I am wrongly linking sex to love 

Rather love to sex. 

Isn’t there a reason we call it making love?

With the way we look after you’ve finished 

Darling it’s making me sick.

-H

October 2018