A Pleasure Remembered Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The Pleasure Remembered.
I saw her in a cafe yesterday; years had not been kind to her
her hair was matted, dry skin and her lips were a sullen grimace,
not quite hiding her miss- coloured teeth.
Once, we slept entwined I kissed her body and often burrowed
my head in her honey pot and drank her love juice like divine nectar.
She was just sitting there a lonely old woman thinking her youth
lost in thoughts and her tea was getting cold.
It made me think of the nature of love, there must be a physical
Attraction first, loving the person´s comes later.
If I met her for the first time today there would be no physical
attraction but perhaps she would have had something interesting
to say, I didn´t listen to her back just her cooing and sexual rapture.
The thought of sleeping with now was depressing and for doing
that...no. But we did flew on wings of passion too high for us and
we burst into flames, only ashes left. She looked around but didn´t
recognise me, why should she, a fat, bald old man reading a paper.