I was sorting the laundry when I found it,
the note, it fell
from your inside pocket and fluttered
like a white feather of cowardice
onto the carpet, so I picked up
the tiny square
of pressed tree corpse, and saw
a death warrant
for all we've ever been together.
It died there, in our bedroom,
my love for you, and I shrank
to a pinpoint.
I so wished I'd been born blind
then I couldn't have read:
the note, it fell
from your inside pocket and fluttered
like a white feather of cowardice
onto the carpet, so I picked up
the tiny square
of pressed tree corpse, and saw
a death warrant
for all we've ever been together.
It died there, in our bedroom,
my love for you, and I shrank
to a pinpoint.
I so wished I'd been born blind
then I couldn't have read:
Painful but beautifully expressed.
ReplyDeleteThank you Gnome :-)
ReplyDeleteI felt an overpowering feeling of numbness when reading this poem (the feeling that you get when you get extremely bad news and your body automatically kicks into defence mode)Very well written :) Very sad though!
ReplyDeleteahh, I know how that feels. I have been in that unfortunate position of discovery, it is like a hot blade that pierces the soul. I wish for you peace.
ReplyDeleteThank you both, Rose and Karime. Your understanding is so important to me. I apologise for taking so long to reply, but I have been to North Wales for Solstice week.
ReplyDelete