I don't trust nostalgia.

Were you as pink as I remember?
I don't see how that matters
anymore.

I don't have a single memory of you
sitting across from me
making plans.
Just naked flesh
warm and wet -
drinking you in like I'd never seen
water
mouth on your clit like
I'd never had
food.

Its not often you see such rapture.

Your eyes would roll back like
there was a secret in your skull,
two solids in the corner pockets.

In a photo finish you
are the second best I ever had.

But don't worry about the other one
she was a godless animal.