Her Last Love Letter

Dear M., she wrote
in lovely strokes and beautiful cursive…

in each line…love letter
she poured out her heart
ending each sentence with
a tear…and a fragment of the love that still clung to each cell
of her battered heart…

she wrote of their memories…
of lessons learned…of realizations…
of the love they once shared…
of what was left of who they once were
to one another…

and she wrote her goodbye…
a painful farewell
to all the years they shared…
the plans they made…the promises…
the dreams they dreamed together…
the intimate moments…
and to the piece of her heart which only belonged to M…

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03.24.15

photo from: http://270c81.medialib.glogster.com/media/fc/fcda4471fb3fda01d182be3a145fa8e27a461837c4764c85882e4b4f1f672c47/poems-for-broken-hearts-001-jpg.jpg
photo from: http://270c81.medialib.glogster.com/

and so we made love for the last time…after a long time…
and i saw that there was nothing left for us…

it was over…

and even while you were holding me
i saw that you weren’t seeing me…
your mind was far away…
somewhere you would not let me reach…

it was over…

and even when you were kissing me
your mind was imagining someone else…
it breaks my heart to realize
that what we had has now been reduced to memories
that cling and hover over me…
a constant reminder of how we used to be…

11.17.12

and when she saw that glint
of sadness in your eyes
did she ask you if you wanted to go
or whether you wanted to stay?
or did she take your face in her hand
and distract you with her seductive
kiss to make you forget
the sadness which clings to you?…

and when she felt the disregard
and the coldness in your touch
did she ask you if you loved her
and whether you still wanted her?
or did she take you in her arms
and laid your head to her bosom
to make you inhale her hypnotic scent
and lulled you into forgetting
your past love?…

and when she heard the hollowness
in your voice during rare conversations
did she ask you what your heart was feeling
and what it whispered in silence?
or did she sing you her song
to take your mind away from
the memories which you held intensely?…

did she love you?…does she love you still?…
how did she love you?…how much did she love you?
does my love compare?

Tears

my tears are unspoken truths…
they are painful memories…
my quiet sadness…

my tears represent time…
each teardrop a period…
in which
i’ve kept myself from
thinking about you…

i restrained myself
from begging you
to come back to me…
to hold me when i feel sad and alone…
to kiss me when i’ve had a bad day…

i picked myself up
in spite of my desires
to sit in a corner
and just let the days pass me by…

my tears are pieces of
you and me…slowly
washing away…

won’t you catch these
tears that i shed?…
these tears are my diamonds…
they sparkle like jewels…
and glisten like the sea
under the sun…

Photographs

photographs
remind me of time –
suspended and captured…
they remind me of
moments..
frozen and documented…
they hold memories
preserved…
printed and framed
and allowed to linger
in our thoughts
during rare quiet moments
or whenever time
permits us an occasion to
reminisce…to look back
into those moments…
those memories…
and each framed, captured
and suspended time
holds the power
to fill our hearts with joy
or break them…
and paint a simple smile
or bring tears
out of sadness or pain…
photographs are like
gifts…packages…
wrapped in the ribbons of time…
and becomes more delicate
with age…
more fragile…as each frame
gets tattered ’round the edges
hoping not be forgotten…

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In Pursuit…

Forgotten by love…
washed away
by the endless waves
towards the shore…
a wink from that lone star
in early dusk…
the heavens sigh
and heave…
as raindrops embrace me
and the earth takes
me to her bosom…
i lie on the ground
clutching the coarseness
of the earth….wanting
to feel…and breathe in
the scent of the rain soaked
dirt until sleep
takes hold of my lonesome…
i wake and hold the mist
and the early morning dew
in my hands…selfishly…
and i seek for that part of me…

in the mist that fill the spaces
of who i’ve become…

in the margins of my thoughts…
in the frays…

in rays of sunlight…trespassing
through glass windows…

in places where time has left its
footprints…in pages
that have browned with age…

everything seems to be
a reminder…
and i am left with an urge
to look…
in shadows and memories…

Image