I encircle your waist
you hold me tight
like the world isn’t ending…
Comfort
I rather think,
that sulfur should be comforting,
because as much as it stinks to us…
It’s odd how comforting,
simply being by a roadside…
If an ocean formed,
between yourself and your past…
There’s something weirdly,
comforting about panic…
We complain in heat,
And bundle up in the cold…
Donuts
comfort you can hold in your hand
always there for you
except for those jelly-filled ones,
those are disgusting
Daily Poets 