Sometimes
They are a
Delicious torture,
Sending shivers
& relentless
Convulsions
From where
Your hand
Was warm
Between
My thighs
Slick from
The pleasures
You ushered
Forth
From the depths
Of me.
Today.
Right now.
You may as well
Be a ghost.
Though you live
Somewhere else
In the world,
It is as if,
You are no more.
Memories of you
Are still
Leaving fingerprints
On me
In me
When I drive past
A place
We had some
Distant pleasure
Of simple happiness.
Some days
When I drive past
That spot
I cry.
Other days
It makes
Me smile.
Mostly though
I wish your
Ghost
Would stop
Standing there
An let me
Live in peace.
Love
Once lived
Becomes a
Harsh mistress
Once she has
Taken her piece
Leaving me
A little less
Whole,
Because
Even though
We are loves
No more,
Some part of me
Is walking around
Out there…
