Vital Memories

I don't regret.
I have my memories under my ribs;
It's vital to my survival as my lungs.

Your scent of female pheromones
and cologne
haunts my dreams
of lying in your arms
for another night.
(Just once more, please.)

Your palm held out towards me,
as the rain pours down.
Your face in shadows, but your tone pleads-
convinces me in dreams.

(Is it really over?)