It's June 1997 again

I dreamed of her again last night, engrasped,
enamored as so many times before --
unchanging just as she was when I gasped
in first-time recognition of the store
of talents she possessed. They are the same
in simple basic functionality
as all the others of her sex, but fame
accrued when hers were offered just to me
(as well as all the other men who looked).
And thus envisioned, she was mine, alone,
repeatedly and willingly, so hooked
and mastered by the loveliness I own
within my hands and eyes that I return
in thought and act each time for her I yearn.

Dedicated to Carrie Stevens