Listen to the Warm
By Rod McKuen
I live alone. It hasn't always been that way. It's nice sometimes
to open up the heart a little and let some hurt come in. It proves
you're still alive. I'm not sure what it means. Why we cannot
shake the old loves from out minds. It must be that we build
on memory and make them more that what they were.
And is the manufacture just a safe device for closing up the wall?
I do remember. The only fuzzy circumstance is something
Why, I know. It happens just because we need to want and to be
wanted too, when love is here or gone to lie down in the darkness
and listen to the warm.