To hear this poem, .
* * * * *
A flower turns,
The night burns,
I'll never learn...
I miss the touch of
Your smile.
Do you remember,
Our last lonely mile?
In the throws of delight,
You held me tight…
We ended up saying goodnight…
Do you remember why?
The tumultuous fire
Of faceless desire
Drenched the bed in liquid heat;
It was a funeral pyre.
At the touch of your mouth,
Your hand,
You kissed away my name
And sucked out my flame.
In the morning, I watched
You shower.
Your nudity seemed strange,
With ephemeral power.
You faded in and out, like
The sensuous unknown into
Whose arms I'd been thrown.
I closed my eyes, your scent
Floated by on gossamer flies;
You were gone.
And I became a sorrowful
Song.