“Dreams can become nightmares. Nightmares can become sweet dreams one day.”
I don’t remember how you looked….
I don’t remember how you looked.
Your eyes were blue, maybe hazel green?
Your hairgolden blondor maybe strawberry red?
I try to describe you and each time I remember less.
Sometime I dream of grasping your hair,
our bodies fighting for the sake of pure pleasure.
You calling out my name, words of love.
You spoke only in the turmoil of sex.
I yearn to see you still.
Your sweet hello’s were sweet and long.
Our goodbyes were long and written deep into the walls of my heart.
I remember your long legs.
You dressed like a woman.
But had thehungerof a child,
seeking the education of the tongue, the touch and the long ride.
I don’t know if you remember me.
I still seek you.
Your hunger was…
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The Reluctant Poet 