Memory Never Dies

by Farrah Sarafa | 2009

Bushels of green rose stems
 and leaves
mix with empty cans and scraps of plastic
from yesterday's meals

I try to massage deep
 oil into his dry skin, flaking off like ash
does a long cigarette.

He mourns, beauties lost
 to time
he invites to our present together
morsels of pure delight

Experienced new from
 many
years ago. Colors seep into blackness
electrically blunt

Fragments from my visions
 of all
that worked like fire-works before my face,
tonight make champagne bodies

like long crystal roses
 or smoke
that rises from argeela pipe to dance
like genies of promise

blast into his decadent
flashbacks
chemically reacting to spiral
something new and breakthrough.

A deep sip of red wine
red rose
the comforting voice of a beauty
this day after brings to me

promise that a future
rich with
sensation and thought, friendship and pleasure
may too blast me with light.

Blue green swords of perception
come to life
  with each way, each new play
of bodies to song, fortune
and long caresses.

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