Memories of Lust Unleashed

Visions of the past,
when I was whole,
when I was myself,
the way I was
in the past.

The flesh is succulent
and moist,
and tender to the touch,
and the way is soft and sweet,
as it was in the past.

I have the vision
often,
but not often enough,
of when I was myself,
the way I was
in the past.

Visions of the past,
when I could grow,
when I was myself,
the way I was
in the past.

It changed with the change,
the tender ministrations
of surgeons,
probing,
correcting,
healing,
but leaving the difference from
the way I was
in the past.

My past is her present,
as she lives the days
of lust unleashed,
giving,
always giving,
so my past will become
our present,
as it was
in the past.

And my mind cries out silently
with need
and visions
of the past,
the way she opens
and offers to me
the memories
of lust unleashed.

My past grows in my memory,
and my vision
needs the
touch of a passionate lover,
undemanding,
seeking my best,
our best,
seeking the way
it was
in the past.

Power held in the delicate hands
of love,
to change,
to transform,
to create the memory
and the reality
of a fervor,
as it was
in the past.

It may never be the same,
as my vision
of what was before,
but love,
true love,
never dies
when it is held in the delicate hands
of the one who lives
for you,
for me as I am,
and as I was
in the past.