Back again May 23, 2024
I almost missed the posting of a new photo on her Facebook
page.
There is usually so little new on that page I often do not
go there for days. But new photo brought me back to those days when I would
wake up to find a new one every morning.
And the one she posted yesterday (I think it was yesterday)
is so reminiscent of those earlier photos, I stared at it for a while on the
screen before downloading a copy.
She had the old makeup on, amazingly framed eyes with eye
liner and mascara, and red lips. It was like going back in time, and stirred up
similar feelings as to those I felt way back then, although with more than a
decade of additional experience, the photo didn’t make me quake inside the way
they once did.
I would like to think she posted the picture for me, but I
know better, and it is safer to assume she did not, since there are some things
in the past we do not want to revisit.
In this photo, she looked professional again, not as stern as
one of the photos she posted late last year, but not as laid back as one of the
other photos, her hair in place, her makeup perfect, and her gaze looking out
at the world as if she’s managed to resolve all those painful issues that have
come her way as of late.
I posted a poem in reaction to it, then took the poem down,
just to keep from provoking any adverse reaction on her part. I have to learn
to appreciate small gifts life gives me without going off the deep end.
I’ll take it as a gift from the gods, regardless of how she
intended it. I’ll repost the poem here on the assumption very few people check
this site
Is it me?
May 22, 2024
She did it again
Or is it me,
A blast from the past
As potent as ever
Her mouth set,
Painted,
Her eyes framed
Like a masterpiece,
And I stare,
Stunned
The way I was back then,
Is it me?
Or is she some force of nature
That sweeps into our lives
Like a storm,
And passed out
Leaving us to wonder
What it is that hit us
And whether we will
Ever be the same,
The memory of her impact
Coming back
Making me react
Just as I did then,
Shaken each time
She posts a new one,
And this so much like
Those I used to see
On my phone
In my head
In my dreams in bed.
I stare
Feeling like an interloper
Like a peeping Tom
Caught in the act,
Just a picture
And yet,
More than that.
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