Epiphany

my first breakup poem

There's an impression in the carpet left by the weight of your boot. I watch the awakened fibers rise and imagine you ambivalent in unceasing sunshine singing along with the radio adjusting the forgotten with words you create, the window's down and then the air brings scent of me, lavender from the garden you pass that hints my perfume, honey sweet donuts at a roadside stand reminiscent of the night when sticky sweetness hid in crevices rolled over mounds of brownness before blessed by warm tongues and impatient lips you cough maybe, rub the spot rubbed bare by years of forgotten habit behind the curve of your left ear roll the window tight and decide it won't use too much gas to run the air, even though now coolness from the open vents seems intrusive, excessive, warmth becomes like the moral at the end of forgotten fables.

Somewhere in the midst of thinking, yours now that mine still clings to an imprint that hesitates as if it knows it is the last you'll ever leave, return becomes a possibility, walking through a door that seemed ever revolving, finding peace in comfort turned to silence, numbing resistance bearable and known, maybe pushing underneath love that's been rolled and bruised until it's forgotten it's shape, place and is content to sit at partially lit tables and read the same Sunday paper in silence.  But before you decide the imprint tempts movement, all that was of you is gone and though the sun has long past set, in new darkness I see the meaning of me for the first time since our time isn't my time and realize my shape is slender without your weight.

Reviews

[Mia]

This is incredible, the words flow beautiful and the imagery is amazing. I'm in awe of this!
"Somewhere in the midst of thinking, yours now that mine still clings to an imprint that hesitates as if it knows it is the last you'll ever leave,"
This is truly a hidden treasure and it's such a shame that more people haven't experienced it!!

[Sam]

Wow thanks Mia, I'm humbled by your review so glad you liked the piece!

[TLK]

Yay! Prose poetry!

'awakened fibres' is a nice anthropomorphic touch, and you then follow it with a rollercoaster of consonance (especially with the 's'), some internal rhyme (e.g. scent / reminiscent), the semantic link between donuts and sticky sweet crevices... plenty is happening.

The poem seems to exist in the moment of watching those fibres decompress and efface themselves... the symbolism between textile/texture and memory is very strong and, I would hope, hard for any aware reader to miss.

[Sam]

Thanks for reading and commenting TLK, it was in fact a piece written while watching fibers 'decompress and efface themselves' so I'm so glad to know that feeling of suspension in time can transfer to a reader.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

wow, i wouldn't want to be the one this is written to..

i like the stream of consciousness style because it fits with the theme, with the cascade of thoughts traveling back and forth between good and bad, and finally great because the dead weight has been lifted, and for the first time she is free and is herself and can live outside of his shadow.

"the same Sunday paper in silence" is quite nice..."the radio adjusting the forgotten words you create" classic idea...the way we just improvise things when we forget what is real.

jacob

[Sam]

Thanks for reading Jacob! It was certainly a stream of consciousness thing when I wrote it so I'm glad it actually makes sense to someone on the outside looking in...