80. this once, its more than enough

bonne anniversaire!

i like the way it rings, reverbrating from the eardrums straight into the heart. it’s been a year.
and i don’t know how to feel, i just feel the need to thank you for the knowledge that someone in the world matters more than the world itself. je t’adore. and i’m not joking. sometimes, not too often, i catch myself pause in the middle of the sentence when i look at you because thoughts that flush into my head like tapwater into a blocked sink.

i’d say remember, but you do. every word i say. you’re magic, you hear me? maybe. telekenisis? unlikely. but know, if you do, that though you’re not here but somewhere else, my feeling never wanes. artificial flowers never wilt; real emotion never dies. sometimes it just recedes to the back of the mind. like magic.

you gave me the rosary beads from your first communion as a gift this morning. placed it along with your card on my porch. and i swear, i didn’t know what to do. it seemed like so much. a universe of you in my palm. 
and i couldn’t wait to ask you about the meaning, though i knew. and you knew that i do. it’s a game we play because neither of us likes losing.

it’s a symbol that i’m ready to learn about it with you. and i can’t be sure that’s exactly what you said, but that’s what i heard.

and i’m stuck for words, but i sit here clutching at metal and plastic made to look like glass in silence and i know wherever i go, you’ll follow.
sometimes emotion is enough to fill the silence. this once, its more than enough.


7 responses to “80. this once, its more than enough

  1. “sometimes emotion is enough to fill the silence”

    the power of unspoken words, just as the cliche says, ‘actions speak louder than words’ ;)

  2. After reading so much eloquent heart break on other poetry blogs, it was nice to read someone write about a happy anniversary, and you do it well. Now perhaps this is all fiction, perhaps you’ve even wrote a fiction to write your fiction for you, but supposing your work is mostly autobiographical, how do you reconcile the tone of this poem with “let me fall into this stupour.” I am curious, as a person somewhat removed from normal life nowadays, when technology presents us with public records of ourselves, how does it affect the people around you? I suppose this is a personal question. I apoligize if my curiosity is impolite.

    • no no, i like questions, no need to apologize. i think, like charley says in “death of a salesman”: “my salvation is that i never took any interest in anything”.
      the people around me don’t read this, nor should i ever hope they ever do. it’s a little private well of emotions in me. sometimes, they hear snippets but respect my need for privacy. and as to the varying tone of the posts, i would say that there are many faces to us all and at different times we all want contrasting things. at the same time.
      hope that answers your question at least a little :) xx

    • i apologize for the incoherency of that…. maybe my next post will deal with it a little better… ;) xx

  3. i see. perhaps the anonymity of a cyber-crowd is better than yr average counselor (in my experience most but not all of them are hacks, more harmful than helpful). i once had a lovely wife who’d had a very wild life before i met her, and she would keep journals and not try very hard to hide them. i read them, and it hurt me much more than it did her. if desire is strong enough, does it not rightly over-ride respect? well, right or wrong it does. related to this believe it or not, is the sort of ardent catholicism Graham Green writes about. i respect but do not share yr love’s faith, and suggest reading “the power and the glory” which is a very enjoyable novel but deals with how a person of intelligence and integrity can be a catholic even in the modern world. blah, Green also write about innocence and love quite a bit, and though i’m half-dead, i fancy i know how others can live. LOL. ironic that a catholic author like Greene would be so concerned with preserving innocence btw, considering what that church is rife with these days… pass by that stink in the graveyard… hurry…

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