untitled 1

The explicitness
The exuberant
       Joyful, sleeping lust
That waits to be awaken
The moment
The times we remember
The times we cannot forget

The times that seem to haunt us
and to never loosen the grip they have
on our souls

Peace to you, dear friend
Be well on your way
Never forget the time that we had

And never
forget
My wicked ways


© 2002 Kerri A. Smith
-2002-