Dear Life

Friday, November 02, 2007

missing

It's not you whom I am missing
It's not you whom I am aching for
It's not you whom I am longing for
No, my dearest,
No, my love,
Don't flatter yourself,
Don't praise yourself too high,
It's the shoulder that I'm missing
the shoulder that let me lean on,
It's the chest that I'm missing
the chest that welcomed my head on,
It's the hair that I'm missing
the hair that brushed over my breasts,
It's the hands that I'm missing
the hands that caressed my thighs,
It's the lips that I'm missing
the lips that felt wet over mine,
It's the eyes that I am missing
the eyes that shied away from me,
It's the voice that I'm missing
the voice that told me
"I wish i could live with you,"
So, my love,
Don't flatter yourself,
This has got nothing to do with you.


us

I remember the first night
that first night when there was not even an "us"
just you and me
as it had always been;
I remember the second night
the night when we moved beyond you and me
beyond the familiar you and me,
the night we created an "us"
a secret "us";
I remember the nights that came
I remember all of them,
I remind myself of most of them
I discard some of them;
that second night
when we kissed in our secret union
you promised me:
that we would be
that we would stay
forever
as we had once been
even if not as what we were becoming;
that we would stay
you and me,
if not "us"
but you and me
together;
today I have lost you;
today I have lost me;
there is nothing left
of you and me;
you lied to me and I believed you
I lied to me and I believed me.