Unhittable

The cold hands I used to know
Are gone
And the tingling uncomfort I used to savor
Was lost a long time ago

All the innocence
Of inexperience
And discovery
Has flattened out into stale familiarity

Sometimes
When I remember the beauty of newness
The face, then unmarred by bitterness and instability
I sink into the pool of blissful sighs
And choke myself to death, knowing that
Sometimes

Strangeness can nеver be recapturеd
Strangeness can never be recaptured