Forlorn Lover III

You left. But you forgot your poetry. What do I do with it? Set it ablaze? But how do you burn something already burning in you?

Today, I wore the last drop of our perfume and the smell of you followed me everywhere. I returned home, sodden in my own tears. Of liberation. Of nostalgia. After today, I won't have to remember you. I will wash clean this dress, rid it of every scent. I will bury deep the empty peach container of our perfume. Then you will be forgotten.

But here I am, again, your poetry in my heart with my soul on fire...

love not meant to be

what do you do with love not meant to be?

do you shove it back to the heart, its root

and let the rough spiky hairs pierce you

or vomit it out of your mouth and burn in a furnace?

do you leave it locked up in the bedroom

seeking liberation

and walk around, body like carcass

or do you carry it along

trudging from its weight and pain

tripping, rising, slogging?

would you rather live the love in faith

like the mustard seed

feign blindness and ignorance?

embrace its folly and just smile

even when your eyes harbour tears

and your stomach rumbles: this love is not yours

what do you do with love not meant to be?

what is right

there is a void
deep
that can’t be filled
there is hunger
fierce
that can’t be satisfied
thirst that lingers
though water abounds

to do what is right
is to give up what you love

the sick eats not
for the law says to fast
there are no pools to hide in
when the sun unleashes its fury
a tough skin you must possess
repelling the weather
hot, dry, cold or wet

too many daniels lurking
these laws must be obeyed
hearts have been captured
chained by dos and don’ts
lives stiffened
in hope for that which is eternal

daily i die
in good deeds
watching all i love
live

and leave

love

this is what love is:

house on fire

water quenching it