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Remembrance
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Lessons Learned I don’t know how to remember you.
Whether my thoughts should slip back
to when hands clasped tightly,
Love was within reach,
and smiles were a thought away.
That is, until I stained the image
and sought Lust instead.
Or should my mind recall
when I made myself into an object
and clarity was found
after nights in darkness
where curiosity had beckoned
under ecstasy-drenched sheets?
Or when the lights stopped
turning on, and you disappeared
from the scene, only to
become a ghost of a man.
Now, images of tangled limbs
haunt my sleepless nights.
Maybe I should forget you altogether.
