CLEARLY ESTRANGED

CLEARLY

 
 

                      ESTRANGED

"Love doesn't exist, don't try to fool yourself..."

She let out in the same tiresome tone of late.

"... little moments,
that constrain the soul,
but,
the inevitable instant-
they all,
become forgetfulness
mute in indifference.
Lost, trapped within the ether,
of good intentions...

One more piece of furniture,
abandoned, tossed,
along the side of the road,
empty of value,
-with nothing more to offer.


Unraveling little by little,
thread after thread,
with every stern wind,
with everything we said.
Under the relentless sun
a desert,
that seems to
become, so much
larger each day.


Trapped
in the dream,
in a sweet desire,
in a fantasy-
that once upon a time
there was an afternoon,
where I felt loved,
and maybe...

         so did you."

HRAFNAR

1

Footnotes
1  If you will, it happened on the tail end of a particularly hot, humid beach day. My wife and myself lay together on a comfortable, cushy old bamboo sofa beneath the shade. Bare feet entangled as the sun went down on Tonchigüe beach, Ecuador. The idea that she had fell out of love had coldly become accepted somewhere inside me. She had finished saying to me how I shouldn't fool myself, how love doesn't exist.
We interrupt upon the last few stanzas of a culminating poem, ignorant of what was said before. Which ends on the hope that it wasn't all a lament full shame, that she in a different time did feel the same...