a spent force, unable
even to fantasize, memories
frozen flooding back like
wastrel girls idolized by
teenage boys who still had
the power to alter reality through
imagination

cold skin pressed against
warm fervor, inexperience posing
as cool indifference, finding
empty cabins with wood stoves and
singed blankets kept too close
to fires and first timers who
know the recipe but are missing
half the ingredients