I used to love an artist...

Poem by: Lizziewolf

Reads: 350 | Likes: 1 | Shelves: 0 | Comments: 7

And I let my wandering steps take me

to the old house with the arched window

where you once lived among your paintings

and I stayed at the closed big iron door,

eyeing the glass panes of the one behind it,

the tiled corridor I used to walk on hurriedly

to find you waiting at its end with open arms.

I stayed for a while seeing again and again

our young selves eager for each other,

I remembered the dusky evenings of passion,

the deep talks about everything and nothing,

the silence of the house nurturing us both.

And I tore myself away from the house you left,

the house that once welcomed our climaxes

under the knowing eyes of your whimsical paintings.

Submitted: January 08, 2022

Adult Romance love longing

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Comments

Spyguy

Sad that you have this house in the past tense, no longer able to enjoy it fully in the present, hence, decreasing the enjoyment I would wish for all of your sense!!!

Sun, January 9th, 2022 9:34am

Author
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Well, the artist does not live there any longer. He lives in another town and has a new object of desire.

Sun, January 9th, 2022 9:28am

DampKitten

I like how you spin the focus of this piece with so much description, creating an atmosphere that 'houses' an emotion. Nostalgic and forlorn, I like how the structure is 'nurturing' this short lived relationship, a personified dwelling every bit as alive as the moment's memory.

Mon, January 10th, 2022 3:48am

Author
Reply

Thank you so much for your words, Damp Kitten! Love, Lizzie.

Sun, January 9th, 2022 7:54pm

Dick Wood

Sad and beautiful at the same time.

Tue, January 11th, 2022 12:02am

Author
Reply

Just like life at times...Thank you for your words!

Mon, January 10th, 2022 8:48pm

Spyguy

So why did you stop loving me?