To memories we may remember

You, you were always my back up sentence
carved all over me like a commandment
I’ve loved and I’ve lost and loved again, hence
remembering is habitual, ambient.

The first locks in our eyes, how we denied
that we convulsed on longings in the dark
the first holding of hands and the first glide
as hugging meant I’m the book, you, the mark

If lust was a mountain, then we hiked it
each rock an obstacle, then a turn on
each step a hurl for the quirk you emit
and I, with my knightly smile, know I’ve won

Of course I remember, damn, who would not?
that this is a memory from a plot

LARDO