There is still something about
the smell of citrus
That turns my heart into
More
than just a muscle for pumping
iron deficient blood.
I remember the reticent
manner in which I
Stood
in front of the mirror,
Examining my
Imperfection
and trying to see myself
through eyes of
Green
instead of dull
Brown.
I recall your refrigerator was
nearly empty,
little more than a jar of
Pickles,
some mustard, and the
Chocolate Sauce
we bought at the 24 hour
Station.
I recall what conviction in
A Man's Love
felt like,
because it was there
Those Nights
Speeding down the
Interstate
(The Road To
Anywhere)
in your beat up 70's
Mustang,
listening to Aqua,
Jewel,
and many things I
Can't Seem To Remember.