Ironic, Drawn Out

it's funny that I
can still remember
the lines of your face
when my memory is one of touch,
not sight,
and it's funny that my
preferences have shifted
to perceive your perfect body
as the ultimate in desire,
not just a standard shape,
and it's funny that I,
even a year later,
can still pretend
that this is only passing pleasure,
not love,
and it's funny that you
haven't noticed.

Author's Note

my muse strikes again...first draft looking for reviews, corrections, comments, or critiques

Reviews

[imm's place]

sound passionate yet hints at a need for understanding of ones self. great pen, masry