Richard Jay Faber

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  • Lost Love

    Richard Jay Faber

    Your lips on my throat, my back cold against the wall.
    But I can't feel it. All I feel is your hands on my skin and
    the mounting pleasure you build inside me. FLASH

    That first tentative touch of your lips on mine, coming from
    a man with a hard mind, but a nervous heart. FLASH

    Your hand in mine as we drive down the night road. FLASH

    Us laughing as we roll around on the floor, tickling and
    touching. Breathless you roll on top of me and prop
    yourself up on your elbows. Staring at me, I feel a tug.
    The reaching out of my heart. Smiling you roll me over
    and we start again. FLASH

    Now here I sit alone. With nothing but my memories.

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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