Description: Just another poem about remembering things I sometimes wish i could forget
Haunt Me, Oh Sweet Love of Mine -------------------------------------------
I wake this morning
as I so often do
licking my dried lips
to find them sweet
Strawberry like the gloss
forever upon yours
As if just this morning
you had kissed me goodbye
Rolling over an empty bed
reaching to silence my wakeup call
My face falls upon a pillow
untouched for a time unmeasured
Only to catch that scent
Ever so alluring
as if your fresh washed hair
had lain there last night
My awakeness progresses
and my feet find the floor
bumping against a worn box
left out the night before
Upon it, your name in bold
within it, a million words
each one forever yours
left so a sad soul may smile
Walking through this house
I hear you in each room
The sound of tears in one
on the night i sought your hand
In another, the harsh words
from the day you took it back
Still echoing, the slamming door
on the heels of your last goodbye
The toothbrush next to mine
A shirt in the hamper down the hall
Dust collecting in frames
of a dozen pictures on the wall
More things left behind
some in every single room
It looks as though you were just here
maybe even today
Throughout the day I remember
that which someday you will forget
The memories you left behind
Oh sweet love of mine
I may not ever cross your mind
I doubt I would anymore
But without thought
You haunt me beautifully
I remember when I was 14 and fell in love with this girl I talked to on the plane to Australia from Vanuatu. To show how long ago that was, the plane was a DC3! Anyway, of course I never saw her again after we got off the plane. But she had lent me a Bic pen, one of those transparent ones, they are still everywhere. I forgot to give it back to her. Well I kept it for a long time because it reminded me of her! Every time I saw it, the whole joyful hour or two would replay. That kind of pen reminds me of that feeling still, although it is a tear of embarrassment nowadays, rather than one of romantic grief, that nearly comes to my eye!
Your poem reminds me of that crazy level of nostalgia, but it is so much richer because your whole dwelling and everything in it plays back your love to you ... for Petesake. I would move out ....
Submission Name: Haunt Me, Oh Sweet Love of Mine
