Wraith & Little Boy Lost

 
The naughtiest     
little black dress           
hangs crumpled       
on a corner of yesterday           
            
I watch her body float           
the memory           
always on top           
always warmer       
than my own           
            
Her cup           
a familiar cocktail of skin           
smooth belly       
browner than a nut           
a whirl of thighs       
and ripe-berry breasts           
responsively defying years--           
always touché and cheers           
            
I should leave           
but the door in my head       
stays locked           
the sigh of my smile helpless           
key ungraciously swallowed           
two fucked-up lifetimes ago           
            
She's on me now           
greedy fingers tearing away jeans           
luscious nails raking their way in           
Angry fists pounding over my chest           
she calls me 'bastard'           
drawing blood then forcing my heart           
to drown in the echo of her soul           
            
I despise my weakness           
though it was all she left           
Her scent is milk           
and I am rising           
mortality harder than stone           
devouring each cruel gush           
of delicious thunder from her womb      
    
There is never any mention of love        
and surely not from me        
but while there is no hope        
when forever haunts a little boy lost        
my world is damned to dream