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 Apr 2020 Cathyy
 Apr 2020 Cathyy
I don’t really do forever..
but man.

I will forever be in love with the moon
 Nov 2018 Cathyy
 Nov 2018 Cathyy
Infinity is a blessing
 Nov 2018 Cathyy
 Nov 2018 Cathyy
Here is to old, eternal love
to love undone
to love lost
and to new love
write a thank-you note
to that woman
in her simple blue dress

talk to your daughter
about important things
of life (= herself )

tell your parents
that you actually love them

have a long chatty walk
with your son

speak out loud
how lovely your partner
looks every morning

start jogging 5 km at least
every other day

give flowers to the secretary
for all those little things
she just keeps doing for you

have a long and patient talk
with your grandparents

love yourself
just a little more

and take better care
of yourself
before ...
 Oct 2016 Cathyy
Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
 Oct 2016 Cathyy
 Oct 2016 Cathyy
at 18, she fell in love. the kind of love that moved mountains and swam seas. he made her write about relationships, mutual ones like the flowers and the bees

*at 21, she started writing tragedies.
 Oct 2016 Cathyy
 Oct 2016 Cathyy
You'll add a poem-sonnet-haiku
But my darling it's just-like-you
To ignore all the rules
To dance in the jewels
And take syllables by surprise.
 Sep 2016 Cathyy
she is all but
gone from me now

sitting quietly in her chair
a mix of memories
and medications

she used to be fierce
and bigger
than her four foot nine inch frame

but now bones and flesh
fall and curve in
gnarling hands and feet
making  her skin
look and feel like a letter
read a thousand times

her voice once so rich and strong
once full of opinion and humour
is now but wind
sighing through ever present pain

I miss the quickness
of her wit the most,

But I miss the mothering more.

Time has reversed our roles
and the decisions are all mine now...

She has out of sheer weariness,
having battled so long, for so hard

aceded her will
to the slow walk of dementia

She sits quietly in her chair
memories gathered
about her, as her companions

Some days it is like I am not here
and others,
she is not there

The days we meet
in passing....
or for a a good while
are gifts that shine bright
at least, in my saddened mind

On the other days,
I hope and pray...
she finds herself
amongst friends
in happy times...

as she wanders slowly away from us
 Aug 2016 Cathyy
rain dripped into my cup of coffee.
its the little things
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