Pieces of my Lover

[Sweets America]

Dear Lover,
Are you really gone?
You are. You are. You must be.
But from now on,
You are also
A piece of the darkest chocolate
That melts on my tongue, and
The light blue perfume in my hair...

Through my tears and cries, I celebrate―
The love-making which followed unsaid tensions;
The coke explosion in my freezer
As Sudden as the Proclamations you abandonned on my desk
Next to a Canadian coin rolling towards obscure corners;
And your cigarette pack ―empty― resting on your train ticket Paris-Poitiers;
Only Paris-Poitiers, not the other way.
―Not the other way―

Around my body, no arms
But your nightshirt I sleep with
As I inhale the scent you left on our pillow,
With the silent company of Little Jerry, the hedgehog;
Him and I both are orphans now.

In the morning, I will put on
Your Jewish t-shirt
And your scarlet cashmere pull-over
As the days are getting colder here.

Oh, Dear Lover, you are
The desperation in my heart
The dryness of my lips
And the death sentence we were waiting for,
Holding each other against the ticking of the clock...
I am waiting, my love, I am still waiting, frozen,
And the pain is getting sharper.
Rue des Terres Noires has become a benighted land
Since you’ve let go off my hand
And walked away from me
Maybe
Forever.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Dear Lover,
Are you really gone?
You are. You are. You must be.
But from now on,
You are also
A piece of the darkest chocolate
That melts on my tongue, and
The light blue perfume in my hair...

Through my tears and cries, I celebrate―
The love-making which followed unsaid tensions;
The coke explosion in my freezer
As Sudden as the Proclamations you abandonned on my desk
Next to a Canadian coin rolling towards obscure corners;
And your cigarette pack ―empty― resting on your train ticket Paris-Poitiers;
Only Paris-Poitiers, not the other way.
―Not the other way―

Around my body, no arms
But your nightshirt I sleep with
As I inhale the scent you left on our pillow,
With the silent company of Little Jerry, the hedgehog;
Him and I both are orphans now.

In the morning, I will put on
Your Jewish t-shirt
And your scarlet cashmere pull-over
As the days are getting colder here.

Oh, Dear Lover, you are
The desperation in my heart
The dryness of my lips
And the death sentence we were waiting for,
Holding each other against the ticking of the clock...
I am waiting, my love, I am still waiting, frozen,
And the pain is getting sharper.
Rue des Terres Noires has become a benighted land
Since you’ve let go off my hand
And walked away from me
Maybe
Forever.



What should we bring to love
but a blank slate
and a willingness to be reborn?


You are Sophie... nothing less!

[SleepyWitch]

hello Sweets.
i found the title of your poem quite intriguing.

i also liked these lines, dunno why:


But from now on,
You are also
A piece of the darkest chocolate
That melts on my tongue, and
The light blue perfume in my hair...


The coke explosion in my freezer
As Sudden as the Proclamations you abandonned on my desk
Next to a Canadian coin rolling towards obscure corners;

overall, it sounds very sad. when I first read it I was afraid you two had broken up or something!

[Sweets America]

Thanks for your response, SleepyWitch. :)
The title was chosen because my poem is made of almost all the presents Jer gave me, or the objects he left here.
No, we have not broken up. ;) The poem has a sad atmosphere because I wrote it soon after his departure, and I felt so lonely and in the meantime, surrounded by so many things that reminded me of him.

[blazeofglory]

Dear Lover,
Are you really gone?
You are. You are. You must be.
But from now on,
You are also
A piece of the darkest chocolate
That melts on my tongue, and
The light blue perfume in my hair...

Through my tears and cries, I celebrate―
The love-making which followed unsaid tensions;
The coke explosion in my freezer
As Sudden as the Proclamations you abandonned on my desk
Next to a Canadian coin rolling towards obscure corners;
And your cigarette pack ―empty― resting on your train ticket Paris-Poitiers;
Only Paris-Poitiers, not the other way.
―Not the other way―

Around my body, no arms
But your nightshirt I sleep with
As I inhale the scent you left on our pillow,
With the silent company of Little Jerry, the hedgehog;
Him and I both are orphans now.

In the morning, I will put on
Your Jewish t-shirt
And your scarlet cashmere pull-over
As the days are getting colder here.

Oh, Dear Lover, you are
The desperation in my heart
The dryness of my lips
And the death sentence we were waiting for,
Holding each other against the ticking of the clock...
I am waiting, my love, I am still waiting, frozen,
And the pain is getting sharper.
Rue des Terres Noires has become a benighted land
Since you’ve let go off my hand
And walked away from me
Maybe
Forever.

Today love is like a cigarette
Smoke and it goes away with the smoke
love is like a lost way
where we can reach the destination is uncertain

What is love but a moment's dinner
Once you stuff yourself and the bowel will be empty again

Love is like a morning dew when the sun kisses it is gone

A fleeing thing like a lightening

So temporal yet seemingly so enduring

[stormy sky]

One reading and yet it leaves such a deep indent ,somwhere much deeper.
I'm so happy you wrote it,sometimes when we write ,we don't realise just how much it could mean to someone else ,for reasons of their own.

[dibyendra]

Oh so sad Sweets ! This one really moved me. Quite nice expressions you have put in this poem. Nice work :thumbs_up .

[symphony]

Wow Sweets, its sad i know... but ...erm...why does it sound so great to me? Well, it must be just the fact that it's a wonderful poem, must be...

Damn I'm not cruel am I? :(

[Sweets America]

Blazeofglory, thank you for your very nice but sad addition. Yes, love goes away sometimes, but I believe that no matter how far one can be from a lover, deep love can always give hope. Real and deep love never really goes away.

Oh Stormy Sky, your comment makes me happy, I am always happy when one of my poems inspires someone else. Since the theme of the poem is quite sad and you can relate to it, I just hope you will be feeling better soon.

Dibyendra, thanks for the appreciation of my work on this poem. I am glad that it moved you. :)

Symphony, no, you are not cruel, ehehe. Isn't it interesting how sad things can inspire positive feelings to people sometimes? It reminds me of the fact that something can be very attractive and very scary at the same time. Or, when we watch a very sad movie, cry a little, and enjoy it. Maybe it has something to do with the idea of the cathartic power it has on us?

[white camellia]

but I believe that no matter how far one can be from a lover, deep love can always give hope. Real and deep love never really goes away.
:thumbs_up

I enjoyed your poem and the delicate feeling from the love of a woman in love. Thanks for sharing as always.

[Sweets America]

Thanks White Camellia, your reply is lovely.:)

[PrinceMyshkin]

Thanks for your response, SleepyWitch. :)
The title was chosen because my poem is made of almost all the presents Jer gave me, or the objects he left here.
No, we have not broken up. ;) The poem has a sad atmosphere because I wrote it soon after his departure, and I felt so lonely and in the meantime, surrounded by so many things that reminded me of him.

Yes, but did you find where I left a big, big piece of my heart?

[Sweets America]

Yes, but did you find where I left a big, big piece of my heart?

The big piece of your heart is here, between my hands, throbbing. I will keep it warm, Jerry, warm and alive. A big piece of my heart is actually somewhere in your house, throbbing as well, and claiming that the only thing that can protect it from the cold Canadian air is the piece of your heart that is here in France. I guess one of us will have to travel overseas so that those two beating things will be reunited.