The glow of a fire burning in a fireplace.
Photo by Matt Seymour on Unsplash

Nothing feels better than the sun on my skin my natural heater.

The warmth of the hot water while I’m showering, makes my flesh melt every time.

The warmth of my lover when she cuddles with me, the closeness of two companions.

The warmth of my heart, when she makes it flutter, the butterflies head over hills.

The warmth of a cover fresh out of the dryer, body candy on a cold winter day.

The warmth of my family and the holiday season, comfortable, happy, and safe.

Like a fireplace,

Like a hot tub,

Like a stove,

There is nothing like warmth.

Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.

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E.D.H.

E.D.H. is a poet who was raised in Compton in Los Angeles. He is currently incarcerated in California. He has asked to be published under his pen name.