Drifting, sifted sounds assault my shoulders,
In subdued clamour, ask, please sir,
A word in your ear?
And fading phantom fingers form around
To feel my skin
Caress my hair,
As formless shifting shapes stand forth,
Not quite revealed, recede, reform,
To disappear,
To tastes that tempt me, tease my tongue
A lingered lick of lips
In moist intent,
In dewdrop smells of grasses, hedges, trees,
Still wreathed in tenses past
To offer forth sad scents,
To see, to smell, to hear, to taste, to touch,
To dissipate this memory mist
Perception.
