Your Scent
My Dearest Love,
Tonight, I tried to find you. I opened a drawer that held your swimsuits, and pantyhose, and lingerie. There were pieces of our past in there and I hopefully inhaled, seeking bits of you, hoping that there was some hint of pheromone, some reminder of you.
I moved from there to the closet and slowly touched one hanger after the other. Such memories. Each piece of cloth bearing ghostly presence as they moved in front of me. I gently pulled an item from time to time and drew my lungs full as I held the garment to my nose, but you were gone - truly.
All that remains of you now is in my head, and in the box on the closet shelf. Your organic parts have faded and I don't know if that is good or sad. I must let you go, but it is hard. It is at times like this that I hurt still. Mostly, I am good. We are good. But when the kids are gone and I am here alone, I pine for you. My solitude hangs heavy around my neck.
I hope that you see the stars and galaxies just as I do when I look at the NASA pics of the day. I think about such beauty as is portrayed there and how you must be out there somewhere. That is my peace - thinking that we go to some beautiful place when we die. Not heaven, as in a biblical sense, but among the stars themselves.
I miss you.
P.
Tonight, I tried to find you. I opened a drawer that held your swimsuits, and pantyhose, and lingerie. There were pieces of our past in there and I hopefully inhaled, seeking bits of you, hoping that there was some hint of pheromone, some reminder of you.
I moved from there to the closet and slowly touched one hanger after the other. Such memories. Each piece of cloth bearing ghostly presence as they moved in front of me. I gently pulled an item from time to time and drew my lungs full as I held the garment to my nose, but you were gone - truly.
All that remains of you now is in my head, and in the box on the closet shelf. Your organic parts have faded and I don't know if that is good or sad. I must let you go, but it is hard. It is at times like this that I hurt still. Mostly, I am good. We are good. But when the kids are gone and I am here alone, I pine for you. My solitude hangs heavy around my neck.
I hope that you see the stars and galaxies just as I do when I look at the NASA pics of the day. I think about such beauty as is portrayed there and how you must be out there somewhere. That is my peace - thinking that we go to some beautiful place when we die. Not heaven, as in a biblical sense, but among the stars themselves.
I miss you.
P.
Copyright ©2003-2007 Phaedrous
posted by Phaedrous at 10:23 PM
2 Comments:
[[[[[[[[[ P ]]]]]]]]]]]]]
Just because it sounds like you need one darlin... hang in there,, I'll send some hippy chick vibes your way....
I keep a 3-pack of Irish Spring soap handy for this very reason, so that I can smell him even now. I don't need a hit every day, but when I do, it's comforting.
Post a Comment
<< Home