How Many

Feeling
up on
me
your ancient hands-
worldly to the point
that I shudder--

how many girls
have you known before?

How many women
washed up on the shore
of linens and curves and musky hair

how many times have you been there
searching for prizes at the end of the maze
those bronze bodies

that filled so many days
in tangled cities
where you stayed
getting names confused

It was like Argentine nights
and a naked Paris muse

Too much woman
in your memory
And I worry
that you go back
back to other thighs
other moans
other sighs--

to others...
to others...

But
I really don't want to think
or know
what good is that?
I'm here now
I'm the one your with

so just go
lay your years on me
reduce me to residue
to a scent left on sheets
to an empty Trojan wrapper
to an evanescent interaction
satisfaction

I'm not the first or the last
wet dream
not the end all
not the be all

just somewhere in between...
your legs
my legs
her legs
threesomes, foursomes
through it all
I end up lonesome