I've spent the better portion of the last seventy-two hours burning my retinas on every angle of your face, tracing you, memorizing you, ensuring that even shouldst I submerge all retention in the hallucination of my adult subsistence, the contours of your mouth, the wrinkles beneath your eyes, and the prominent slope of your nose will always be close upon my heels.

The very indention of your smile is an opium alluvion over all of my distracted senses, stretched over my frustration and -
over my thoughts.

And I can't stop thinking there will be a moment where you succumb to biology and inhume the soft fire of your wicked iris.

I mouth these lines against the face of reality, under my very tongue,
where I still carry the spices
of you.

02/10/2008

Author's Note: 27.December.2003

Posted on 02/11/2008
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