Poem: The Tease of Memories

There’s something cruel about memories. 
Images without smell, 
Without taste, 
Without the touch of your hand 
Whisking my hair,
Mimicking the wind. 
Just a tease
Of what hasn’t been for a long, long time. 

There’s something cruel about longing, 
The moaning emotion crumbling resistance, 
And yet, what am I longing for? 
Your touch? 
What does that feel like, pray tell? 
I cannot seem to recall…


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