I Remember You
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From the anthology, Scenes From the Cerebellum, a work in progress.
I Remember You
Yes, I remember you,
the dark-skinned girl,
dressed in tight corduroy,
unzipped on the floor there.
You were my lover that night in 1970;
We were wrestling
so smoothly, so passionately,
in the old brick house on Hoover street.
Remember honey? Just you and me
alone in the darkness,
kissing like kids crazy about each other,
listening to Hendrix on the oak console,
Electric Merman on axe in 1983,
Playing like a god from beneath
the fiery pinnacles of the Styx.
Remember? We were 18 and
wild with wordless desire.
I kissed you often that night
in the grey bluesy shadows,
embracing intensely
your perfumed, unbuttoned body,
on beige thick shag
by the open screen door,
with that benign breeze blowing in
softly and silently,
like the breath of whispering ghosts,
watching there, as we groped and licked,
two kneading felines, quivering,
insecure in the darkness,
our lips, slickered and lathered
in strawberry paste and love spit,
and our reaching tongues,
seared and slithering like caught tunas,
found electric connections
in the heaving nets
of aching fleshly onslaughts,
of mad touching embraces,
with esoteric teenage sweatings
at silent midnight, in June,
when the jacarandas are in bloom.
Yes, I remember you,
The girl with the brown perfumed skin,
and those kissing smacking sucking lips
that spoke so loudly,
without ever saying a word.
Copyright © Stark Hunter | Year Posted 2019
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