![]() |
If you've ever wondered what a female's towel might think, this poem easily tells you. |
| Warm and fuzzy. I wrap myself around her shoulders. I know every detail of her body. Her skin is soft like silk and pale. The water drips from her hair Like a soft April shower. I love her, but I cannot tell her. Her voice sings softly As I wait for the touch of her skin. She doesn't know I love her And she throws me to the floor. I had just gotten out of the shower and I wrapped a towel around me to dry myself and stay warm as I reached over my clothes. This poem came to mind and once I was dressed and out of the bathroom, I found paper and wrote this poem. |