hard and
soft the curves
of all of
you in
my memory
the different
lips I've
kissed, the
taste of spring
water.
pushed up
in the stalls
after school.
crammed,  
dark,  in
the car before
it turns
to morning
and the
memory of
irresistible fire
shooting  through
my legs,
is thin
and hollow
now that
the years
have covered
up the
feeling part
of my every-
-day- nerves
with an
awful gloss.