In a moment

Morrissey memories blare from long ago sanguine dreams.
Beauty undefined was the drawn out undulant note,
A strummed energetic stringed instrument abuzz with the hum
of a thousand honey coated bees,
Bursting juice barely contained in a peach,
And a blazing landscape lay open under the surface of those strings,
a tightrope for calloused fingers to glide like dancers across the wire;
My fingers unhardened traced the contoured map of your skin well into the desperate hours, your heartbeat was a dull thumping drum line,
a beat that waltzed out caprices and marched our euphoria.
No drug since have I known as powerful as youth,
as kisses
as u bliss,
Now diminished.
Dull tasting is the fuzzy anesthesia of age.
Ash to dust, to these notes
That I carry on napkins, in sacks, in my mp3 memories,
And tote around like shields in my waking hours against reversions, digressions, melodious daydreams that bring me You.
Strings repel me as quick as the angry buzz sound of wasps
Gone sweet honey now.
Morrissey spawned the daydream so ugly indeed.
Now too is beauty defined; a fading drawn out reflection in a dusty mirror.