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Eight years

Eight years, one month, eight days

Eight years, one month, eight days
after we met,
she called.

Eight years, four days
after we became lovers
she called on the phone.

Seven years, nine months, seven days
after our first fight
she called to improve her social skills

Seven years, eight months, seven days
after I had to go away for a while
she told me how alone she is

Seven years, seven months, seven days
since I came back,
bearing love and gifts
she told me of her losses

Seven years, one month, seven days
after we broke up,
she cried on the phone,
that she just felt weak,
couldn't make it,
apologised for crying at me
I said oh, hey, that's ok,
I'm honoured by your trust.

Seven years, one month, seven days
later, I hang up
and look at the phone.

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Comments

I remember this.

About 3 years 2 months, one week and half a day give or take 4 hours ago.

It's that good!

~A

I re-posted to prove to someone in chat that I could write a love poem.

cheers,
Jess
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author comment

months and days
what can I say
hmm
Jess, I love this!

L

_________________________________________
"Death" is nonsense: what is there to die?
"Life"? How could " life" "die"? That is a contradiction
in terms. Can "light" become "darkness"?
"Light" can only cease to be apparent

Wei Wu Wei

i think you should write love poems more often...........stan

what i like so much about this, is that what is
NOT stated speaks the loudest

it's as if nothing else that happened
in those time frames mattered...time was
only measured by how it contained 'her'

and THAT, is romantic as hell

cheers
p

would this read better?..

Seven years, eight months, seven days
while I was away
she told me how alone she is

raj (sublime_ocean)

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