rains of may

I am missing the touch
of a new pair of lips...
strange
electricity

I am aching for the
moments in a day
dancing naked
below the rains
of may

The spark
of a starry night
sipping wine
by candlelight

I am forgetting it...
or perhaps it never was
a rare kind of dream
a figure-like form
foggy as steam

A contentment that never was
A fulfillness that never is

Overpricing the past
for the prostitute it is

Screwing up the present
unattainable as it is