Thoughts at a French Cafe

Charmed Chaos

He thinks of her when late evening shadows fall
across his haggard wrinkled face
as he aches to remember every detail,
wanting once more to intimately trace
with his smooth fingers the luscious shape
of her hips even when she aged,
were pure joy to embrace
as side by side they lay.

He wants to feel her red rose lips
pressed to his, the way she kissed
when she felt his desire,
his love; raging passion rising
with their bodies in sync, wrapped
in this beautiful rapturous curse.
These memories haunt him now she’s gone,
for the hunger and yearning grows worse
with each endless night and day.

Author’s Note: At dVerse Poets Pub: MTB by Changing your perspective Bjorn has asked us to write from a different perspective. I seldom write from a man’s perspective so this is my attempt.

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