The Memory of Your Mouth
The memory of your mouth still makes a wound
Where lips now hollow once were crushed with lust.
Your tongue and teeth that savaged like a hound
Have left a scar-like gap and taste of rust
Where feral kisses set their mark and had
Their territory. Bruises as from claws
Retain their influence in my throat and add
A darkened trauma to nostalgia’s pause.
Although your absence, not your wild caress,
Is what delivered all this agony,
Of course I could not hope to convalesce
If touched by you again in ecstasy.
Yes, if your mouth returned from memory
To mine, my heart would spurn all therapy.