Unsorrow

He is my dearest, most lucent memory
He is the urgency of foreplay
The funny story told after
He is searching lipped magic.

And when one day I am drooping broken
Against the crook of his yielding elbow melting
Into the dent of his imperious smile leaning
On the knob of his stainless spine;

I am drinking of his mouth revitalizing every
Beating node that tries unavailingly to stop replenishing every
Pulsing artery that spurts itself dry recruiting every
Errant organ back into obedience restoring every unhappy tear
Back into unsorrow and smiles.