Forgetfulness is a bitch,

a truly terrible business.

when reminded,

it slashes across your heart

leaves it bleeding

churning out clouds of deep warmth 

(and not in a good way)

and leave a sting

not even a bullet ant can compete with.

No one
not even us,
will ever know
what this madness
will ever do
will ever be
will ever make
of us.

A mix

I can still picture you

With that big smile, eyes crinkling

Handing over a card

Business, it was.

I remember sitting on a wooden bench

Gazing at the waters

Night enveloping us

And deciding that you were the pick for the night

For pleasure, it was.

Little did I know

That it was nothing but a night’s business.

Today,

Your smile gives me so much happiness

Your hugs give me so much warmth

That we are bound to each other in ways no one imagined

Business and pleasure it seems

Can certainly go hand in hand

And this time,

It was the best mix.

Of smokes and kisses

i'm convinced this isnt meant to be written down. it got erased, twice. this is the best i could do to retrieve it, not as half as good (for me) as the original though-

the lips curve up in smile

as the memory clogs up the mind.

behind closed lids

the smell is pungent

of smoke

his tongue probes in

heavy with the last draw of smoke

while his fingers

hasty and strong

creates ripples down the body.

just the memory

is enough

to start that chills in her stomach

that travels its way down.