he remembered the warm kiss.
the shape of her legs.
her downy white skin
laced with lace,
and the taste
of her neck
that could drown
a man in lust.
he drank entirely
too much that night,
remembering,
remembering,
remember.
with music soft
on the air,
and a heart
that cared too much,
he could see her
clothes askew
and the ripe,
round ass
bobbing
in dusk's light.
eyes that showed
the gleam from the window
where crows cawed
and coughed out little rhymes
about drunken men
too far up love's ass.
sobbing,
he tore at his chest
and wailed
for his love was lost
on the ocean that drives
the waves through the mind
of a madman,
beckoning the
creatures into
absolution.
sobbing,
he tore at the tears
of his cheeks.
he wreaked of wine
and cigarettes,
and musk.
eyes swollen,
sight blurred,
coughing up
old memories
because he was
a pussy.
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