I'm smothered by a memory
entangled in your finger's phantom touch,
the filgreed chills of your delicious bite,
trapped in the comfort of your drunken clutch--
for what your ardent kiss
seems so clear it stings like shards of glass
that slash my eyes to hear your echoes say
"what is now, what was then, this must pass."
If lost, these words are
simpler than they seem;
simply listen to the echo when they pass:
they say I want to haunt your every dream--
it says "dream on, you're an ass."
illusration and web page by JASON PAUL FOX
You MUST credit my authorship when reproducing this poem in any way!
(It's OK to give my poem to friends or people at school, if you credit me and don't make money off it)
2007 Jason Paul Fox