December 17, 2011
4:00- 5:15 pm
My Room
Small world, isn't it?
Who'd have thought
we'd get to know
the same people, the same faces
at different events in our lives?
Who'd have known
we'd be walking
around the same circles,
through the same doors,
at one point without us recognizing it?
Who'd have imagined
that we'd love
one same guy,
and be Loved as well,
by him?
He loved you in a different era,
where love was pure, and innocent,
and aggressively true.
He is loving me in another,
and we are both terrified, and cautious,
though we know it is equally real.
Yet then, my thoughts about you
float amidst my melancholy -
piercing through my core of longing
for the man who brought back
the light in my shady present.
I know he loved you,
truly, beautifully.
For all those years,
and those women he bedded,
still, within him, it was only you.
You are a highlighted segment in his life.
His love for you has become
the basis for his love
to all other ladies in his life.
Including me.
I am aware, inasmuch as I could see,
that he wants me to know,
and to prove to me,
that he'll show me more love
than the love he'd shown you,
the love you failed to see.
I appreciate his effort.
But could it be possible
that there'll be no YOU in the picture?
I cannot be not jealous
when he talks about you
in a caressing-like tone of voice
which brings my mind to a scene
of you held by him
like a fragile glass sculpture.
I am confident that I am loved,
but please,
I don't want to be compared.
Let your past with him be a different path,
(I did not say "forgotten")
And my present with him be our own journey.
You loved him, he loved you.
Now he loves me, and yes,
I love him, too.
And so,
for the whole ttime
I have been talking to the wind.
Because I wouldn't want you
to know about this poem.
**
You are long gone,
long separated from each otherr.
And I have admitted to myself that I am weak,
and I can be insecure.
But that's it.
There's really no point in telling you this.
