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i wish i could whisper like that

by Morgan D Hafele

she wrote lyrically. i wrote obscenely. we both wrote in the past because that's where we were stuck. even now i find myself trudging through the same mud from so long ago, always astonished to find that it never dried and crumbled away. and sometimes i wish that i could see the look on her face again, when i told her i couldn't breath without her. i asked myself, when did i become so codependent?
i used to like to believe that she found herself coverd in the same sludge that i was, but then i remembered that she never came out. the past was all she had to remember because as she told me, dreams are nothing but reminders of the past and i've all ready skewed every vision i've ever had.
i fell in love after the first word, even though, now, i couldn't remember it to save her life. maybe that's why she couldn't stay.
i remember her breath, light against my neck and the moisture brushing against my skin well after the sunset. we just layed on the blanket in the park, too close to not touch. we talked. i don't know how long it had been since i visited that park last, and since then i haven't been again.

i used to imagine that when i grew old, at least, i'd be able to share my... something that i can't remember anymore.

i guess you could say that i was in love with her, but she was in love with an idea. each step she fell behind i found fresh blood on my arms. each time she stepped away, the same taste entered my mouth and my mind rinsed itself clean. euphoria did have it's place.
she used to whisper things that i couldn't understand, i never will. and she'll never explain. even if she could, i know that the meaning would be lost anyway and i don't want to ruin the mystery.
sleep tight...
my darling.

03/24/2007

Author's Note: please, read it out loud... it will make more sense.

Posted on 03/24/2007
Copyright © 2024 Morgan D Hafele

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/24/07 at 03:52 PM

I love the honesty, and longing of this piece. Obviously someone very special to you Morgan, and worth capturing if only in words. Well done old man.

Posted by Becca Kinser on 03/26/07 at 01:33 AM

Morgan, you are incredible. I can't say anything else, ever.

Posted by Alison McKenzie on 04/11/07 at 01:48 PM

There is so much death in this, and life is full of death, n'est pas? Beautifully written.

Posted by Rowan Luis on 01/11/08 at 05:57 PM

wow. beautifully paced, expecially when read out loud, you're right. although i supsect that's not what you mean. this is wonderful... i may add it to my favourites. the mud...the sludge that never dries, is so familiar.

Posted by Melissa Panther on 10/23/08 at 07:14 PM

I love this, such authentic expression, what a journey, a meandering...lovely every line.

Posted by Allison Smith on 07/23/09 at 09:58 AM

Into my favourites it goes.

Posted by Mo Couts on 06/21/11 at 04:19 AM

I read it silently, I read it aloud and each reading was better than the last one; a brilliant work of art here, Morgan.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 10/30/14 at 12:42 PM

beautifully conceived and articulated. the very thought of an old love will tend to create such wonderfully wrought works as this. congratulations on POTD.

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