The Ides of March

Daily daily
Night by night
A haunting
Of ancient dreams
A might have been
Of moments
Pleasured
And released from pain.
Soft yielding flesh
Smooth raven fur
Tasting the dark corridor
Revisited time and again
Again and again
Before a fitful coming
Waking to reality
In the deepest corner
Of the night
Slipping into darkness
Once again
Looking to slake my thirst.

JL 14 March 14:12