My body aches,
My body suffers out of starvation,
Not of food but of sensations.
Of touch,
Of hugs and kisses,
Under mistletoes and rain drops,
And tears that glisten.
My body aches,
Stuck within the droughts of isolation.
YOU ARE READING
My Inner Workings
PoetryWhen I can't feel, I cry When I can't cry, I scream When I can't scream, I write
