— Vicki L. Harvey
My memory is failing…………
There was a time I could name my lovers,
and in sequence.
Why can’t I now, when I need them,
than I did when they were here?
This night, like me, grows old by inches,
closing around by barren singularity, a sad,
(On nights like these there is little peace in
Now that the feast is over, a Chinese menu of deceptive plenty, now that I am alone,
and hungry, I rather wish I could remember,
not so much names or faces, nor the chronology, or the circumstances, or even the
but the feeling………