Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Love, Forgive Me




Sierra DeMulder 
My sister told me a soul mate is not the person who makes you the happiest but the one who makes you feel the most, who conducts your heartto bang the loudest, who can drag you giggling with forgiveness from the cellar they locked you in. It has always been you. You are the firstperson I was afraid to sleep next to,not because of the fear you would leave in the night but because I didn’t want to wake upungracefully. In the morning, I crawled over your lumbering chest to wash my face and pinchmy cheeks and lay myself out like a still-lifebeside you. Your new girlfriend is pretty like the cover of a cookbook. I have said her name into the empty belly of my apartment. Forgive me.When I feel myself falling out of love with you, I turn the record of your laughter over, reposition the needle. I dust the dirty living room of your affection.I have imagined our children. Forgive me. I made up the best parts of you. Forgive me. When you told me to look for you on my wedding day, to pauseon the alter for the sound of your voice before sinking myself into the pond of another love, forgive me. I mistook it for a promise.

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