Synapse fire

Music rages

Colors feel thick

Scents arouse the past

Longing for youth that will never return

To experience the awe of the young man

Yearn for the innocence

Ache for the first touch

Encounter her body

Entwined with her soul

Smooth, silky, cool

Hot, moist, unexplored

Surge, explode 

Lying spent, content, rapt

Now

Flesh fails the spirit

Age betrays the young soul

Uninspired, no contentment

Just old

Wasted

Spent

Writing useless poetry