From 2008, a strange reminiscence of Panther.
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I will find you in the strangest corners of memory.
The way you took your drink and the pattern
of cool drops of sweat that formed on the glass
as we spoke of nothing as foreplay to
an inevitable union, moments in the future.
The texture of the skin on your back when...
when you were warm and full of life and me.
The way your hair fell in my face when I was
too busy with other things to notice, but remembered
later, and smiled a slow and gentle memory.
The scent of jasmine filtered through the oils
of your skin as you lay beside and beneath me
asking for nothing more than everything I had
and was and would ever be and I gave it all
in joy and hope and dreams and passion undismayed.
The texture of your kisses and the questions you asked
with hands and arms and lips and legs and sounds
that were not words but spoke infinite eloquences
that stole my heart and soul and memory of promises
I had made before I saw your eyes and lost the pain of life.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.