Kamala

I can't ask you to love me

anymore.

I don't need you to want me

Through the door

of smoke time and rolled cigarette butts

lazy serenades,

drunk on river boat rapture

barefoot--hot coals of asphalt

pillow confessions of upside down lives

two hearts opened wide by rotation.

I miss your cheek sometimes

a resting place for open palms

fingertips stroke down

aged leather,

sallow from too much truth

and time

melancholy lips

rim an open vessel.

Pour your sadness into me

I still know the alchemy

of fermentation

sour grapes turned bitter sweet

intoxicate us.

I miss you sometimes.

Memories of

midnight

candle light

embrace of the waves

the sand

And

That smile,

when you forgave life

for reducing your soul to a man

for a while.