Of Blushed Faces, Bruised Hearts, & Blissful Ignorance

Wed, 26 Mar 2008 01:31:43 GMT

Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.

Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.

-Sara Teasdale

     There is a part of me, the smallest part, that frets over memories unremembered. The moments that haunt me most are the ones I cannot recall, because they did not happen with me, but they happened to me.

     They are ghosts, looming in corners, empty rooms, and desserted hallways. And in rooms with open doors during the summer I did not know you.

     I can imagine stifled moans and bodies and shirts up and pants down. But all of this was yours and hers, and not mine.

     There is still a part of me that wants to know, and a part that is blissful with ignorance. I don't look in your eyes and see her. I don't look in your eyes and see a mistake. But in distance, there is room for thought. In distance, there is room for curiousity.

     I'm a million times sorry, but I know you're a million and one.

anatomyofsoul

Of Blushed Faces, Bruised Hearts, & Blissful Ignorance