This Finite Piece of Time

In my weakness, I think the acts of a man might fill my emptiness.  
When we play our seasoned roles as passionate lovers,  
I do so as one mindful of our approaching deaths.  
 
I share my flesh as if it were a commodity that should be enjoyed before its expiration date.
But, beyond mere pleasure, I want you to keep my memory alive in your thoughts.  
 
My apologies to the lover who wants more than I can give.
What we do here in this finite piece of time has value in and of itself.  
We can at least love the electricity of it and the  
possibility that we'll exist in the mind of another.