He kisses your shoulder, 

then your cheek. 

His touch makes your knees weak.

How do I know? 

Before you, and a dozen more,

it was me. 

Now, I’m a faded memory, 

as you will be. 

Don’t believe me? 

I too used to laugh at the absurdity. 

He could never leave me. 

As he grows older, 

his women get younger. 

Curiously, they look like me at 23. 

How cruel fate can be, 

let you taste heaven,

then leave you lost and lonely.

Consider yourself warned. 

Attempt to fix the broken, 

love with abandon, 

at your own risk. 

It's like surfing the ocean,

during the perfect storm. 

For every one that reaches shore,

many drown. 

I wish someone would have enlightened me. 

Wild horses and wayward souls 

can never be tamed. 

They must remain free 

of dogma, convention, fairy tales, altered reality,

and any other temporary abnormalities.