Had we known love before
then I would grieve now
for its loss.
Had there been openings
in doors shut,
in conversations,
then there would have been sadness.

Had we known love before
to share, without grieving
other loves,
we would have made it
passed the boundries
of mere acquaintances
and passed the treshold
of uneasy sex.

Though there is sadness
because there seems nothing here
in this rained over grave
but a hollow coffin.
And grief allows itself to barge in any time

ps this poem was inspired by a poem I read a while ago but I don’t remember it altogether and I also forgot who wrote it lol. I just remembered bits and pieces.


Comments on: "It was not love that died" (10)

  1. Are you saying goodbye to a frienemy?

  2. I liked the conversation in your write…i can feel what is and what is not in the words that were shared!

  3. A moment of love that is not love. I know that exists in real life, perhaps more often than not. Again, this is good poetry, Ina.

  4. This is almost like a poem by one of the Bronte sisters, especially Emily or Anne (modernized, of course, with the mention of sex)…it has that haunting quality…illusive and illusionary…and yet quite real in the memory of the spirit. Loved it!

    • πŸ™‚ Thank you! I wish I remembered what poem it was that triggered this one. Can’t!

  5. Ina, this is another one that I can relate to!

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