Splash of Remembrance



A memory of love/lust, fleeting but slightly erotic.

The space seems so empty

with the muted memories of our love


with each

drip drop splash of the foyer fountain.


I look past the shadow of our shared kisses

hidden by

the darkness of a secluded alcove

one wintry holiday

when we chose to stay wrapped in each other’s warmth,

an embrace,

just an elevator’s ride

to a room

filled with the lusty memories of

a million bygone lovers.


But none’s love so

feverish as ours.


The flash of our tangled limbs,

and your lips on mine,

a forbidden dance

leading my hips to sway of their own accord.


The beating pulse of your heart

racing in rhythm with mine.


A moan.

A sigh.


The spasm of a thousand supernovas

overtaking my senses

leaving me breathless.


And even now,

the scent of you still lingers on my skin

enveloping me in an ecstasy of

flesh on flesh,

fingers running along spines,

tongues tasting of one another,

while somewhere,

the syncopated splash of a fountain

urges me to come back to a reality

where you are no longer by my side.



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