{Mon 5 February 2007}   Coming to terms
Coming to terms

I miss him.
His otherwhereness is solid about me.

No longer raw,
I seem whole beyond tearing now, for him,
As I tore then.

But some days, musical days,
A sadness beyond tears hangs in, makes its own void in,
My breast:

I had dangerously given my heart as well,
When I thought I only loved him.

any poem with a word like otherwhereness gets my vote – like the sadness “hanging in” what the hell does that mean? it’s got to stop you and make you think

Tia says:

Glad to hear that word’s ok with you, as it crops up occasionally in other poems – I guess it’s a theme of mine.

Lola says:

Very lovely, and very sad.

Tia says:

Thank you!

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