old pleasures remembered

The Pleasure Remembered. I saw her in a cafe yesterday; years had not been kind to her her hair was matted, her skin was dry, and her lips were a sullen grimace, not quite hiding her miss- coloured teeth. Once, we slept entwined. I kissed the body and often burrowed my head in her honey pot and drank her love juice like divine nectar. She was sitting there, a lonely woman, thinking of her youth, lost in thought, and her tea was getting cold. It made me think of the nature of love; there must be a physical Attraction first, loving the person comes later. If I met her for the first time today, there would be no physical attraction, but perhaps she would have had something interesting to say. I just heard her cooing and sexual rapture. The thought of sleeping with now was depressing, and for doing that...no. But we did fly on wings of passion too high for us, and we burst into flames, only ashes left. She looked around but didn´t Recognize me, why should she A fat, bald man reading a paper?