Residuos de Nueva York -1

Sometimes when I am alone,
I think of you.
I remember the fire burning within you
consuming
touching me
and warming me.
I remember the cool breeze of your breath
against my neck.
I remember the soft tone of your voice
caressing me, taking me away.
I remember the ready awareness of your hands
making dreams come true,
soft and touchable.
I remember the silky smootheness of your hair
a color tone that I disliked
-until I met you-
I remember the cigarrette we had
over the rooftops,
while watching the city lights unfold beneath us
and the city itself come alive.
I remember the first kiss
on the staircase,
impulsed by my reckless character
(aye, but thank the gods for it).
Yes, many times, not only some
when I am alone I think of you.
And you, with your mere wisp of a memory
make me more than happy.