Do thee recall thy finest summer, as I do mine ?
For me ‘twas the last of youth’s tender wine,
When adulthood’s cares not yet laid on our shoulder,
Oh damn these times, so much wiser and older.
I would freely give now all my future years due
Just to relive that one summer with you,
To swim in our lake, build a warm, crackling fire,
Lie ‘neath bright stars as a new moon climbed higher;
Kiss your sweet breath away, from lips cherry red,
Thy breasts as a pillow, to rest my dreaming head,
Feel thy fingers form ringlets in this tussled hair
While my own trace your thighs, as far I might dare.
Damn the grave’s hunger, where thee liest dead,
And damn these cold nights, spent alone in mine bed.