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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1684445
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. 
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