my memoirs

My feelings can't unsee the memoirs

written in 48 years of

sunrise, sunset, bridges and rivers

islands with blue waters, tropical desire

all the dreams of sex with a girl

your warm arms around me, peace

white fluff of feathers, cream comforter

and up I wake

to viscous silence, bitter solitude

black coffee, thick berry shakes

I'm drought-blighted, my lips need your lips

only rain won't change

what furrows my soul, knowing I alone

wrapped in my ribs, have what you need

and you can take it, with your fingers

and you must be brave

like on a prickle the one last bright and pink flower

in the desert before the yellow superbloom ignites

a thousand unexpected shivers or spasms of life

in green and brown as lost in my eyes as I

so long ago lost myself in yours