DON’T I KNOW

She’s my last minute thought.
The vision that flashes like
a neon bar light with once
bold colored letters blown.
New names cross my mind;
but none tempt or compete.

Recalled sweat soaked nights.
The clinging hot bodied days
that clouds forgot to shutter
or blanket past memories.
Her throaty liquor laughter
drowns out pastel partners.

I whisper a silent vow of regret.
Knock back shots to remember,
not quite enough to risk capture.
A slow dance to hold her closely
then stare raptly as she hikes her
tight skirt thigh high as again I die.