I'm smothered by a memory tonight,
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 meant yesterday
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."
By Jason Paul Fox
