I saw her just the other day. I was lost in her city. She looked exhausted and confused, but she still looked so damn pretty. I said, "I'm doing mighty fine."
She said, "I can still tell when you're lying. And I know you're lying. Even after all this time..."
I said, "It's strange so many years haven't changed your face. Tragedies have come and gone without leaving a trace."
She said, "It takes a lot longer now to put on my makeup. And last night I told myself, I never want to wake up. But last night seems so long ago. Let's just hold hands here in the snow. And no one will ever need to know. No place has ever felt more like home. I don't care if the whole world explodes. Let's just hold hands here in the snow..."
I like the mystery you plopped the reader into, like this is a scene in the middle of a story...a little teaser leaving the reader wanting more. I find myself wanting to know how the people got here, where were they before, what had they meant to each other, and where are they going now. Very effective, evocative little tease that's begging to tell its secrets.
This is an interesting piece.
I really like how you fused your poem into
a new idea of a duet without the person
actually contributing other than from memory.
I enjoyed the lines,
""She said, "I can still tell when you're lying.""
and
""I said, "It's strange so many years haven't changed your face. Tragedies have come and gone without leaving a trace.""
The feelings flowing from just one small conversation between two....
Cause one to wonder of their past...of the memories shared and words spread thick..
I truly did enjoy this write.
Thanks for sharing.
ps) the comment from E York - her words came close to my relation to this poem.
This is so touching - what a chance encounter with someone known before and what beautiful words to speak after having been seperated. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha
Once I fell in love with a woman. It was all-consuming. She was the other piece of my soul, the white chiffon, the rich cakes and too-strong liquor.
Then, she left me for this man.
It wasn't long after that that I saw her again. But she wasn't what I remembered. She had changed; she had aged. She wasn't the woman that I remembered her being. It was like someone reached up and took the blindness from my eyes, and I was able to see what she really was.
Your poem was my dream. I just wanted her to come back to me. I never wanted the memory of her to go, but it did. The snow melted.
We held hands, but the snow melted.
Now, I still can't get her out of my mind. It's been awhile since I've seen her now, but I still think of her. My mind still clings to the part of her that once was, but is no more. "Let's hold hands in the snow." I'm not sure if she let go or if it was me.
Either way, spring's come and winter's gone, but even though the season's have changed, my heart still feels the same.
There is something incredibly sentimental about deja vu types scenarious and your poem reflects them well, that dialogue of old and new, weaving in and out of our perceptions of time and how relationships hold their own energy...
Nice job, good for free-association, that's for sure.