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about one hundred years ago
or three years
or just yesterday
I lay in your bed
smelling the indent and the roll
of your dream life when I am not
trying to look through your eyes
into your soul
About one hundred years ago
or three years
or just yesterday
I stood over your bed
stripping the sheets
smelling where you lived and breathed
all those nights and days
we should have been making memories
now folded away
About one hundred years ago
or three years
or just yesterday
I smoothed the mattress clear
of the weight you inhabited and
little traces curled here and there
persisting to remind me
of the way the moon lit
your sleeping face
now you will always have your eyes closed
maybe now you can see
the shapes of angels
watching over you until
it is my turn and I come to find
if you have been waiting all this time
a year, a month, a day
one hour is too long
without looking into your eyes
to see what I love reflecting back
like dark diamonds capturing stars
will wink out
and there you are

0 Replies to “There you are”

    1. Thank you so much, yes, that has been my pervading emotion of late, I wish I had the ability to disassociate from my emotions enough to write more objectively, sometimes I do, sometimes they are too insistent. xo

  1. Grief, heartache, longing and love so beautifully conveyed in every line. Your writing stirs my emotions. Thank you for sharing your gift Candice, much love always my friend. πŸ’œ

  2. Reblogged this on mvitrano and commented:
    Grief, heartache, longing and love so beautifully conveyed in every line. If you don’t already follow Candice Daquin at TheFeatheredSleep you should.

  3. What can I say that has not already been said here? This is eveything that I said before about your incredible gift and how it touches people’s hearts and puts into to words that which we feel but have not the words for. Je t’aime, N πŸ™‚ <3

  4. Candice Louisa
    This is one was one of those Texas Love Songs that has a happy bouncy tune
    and “liricos tristes” (sad lyrics).
    Wow! You did it without music.
    I am proud of you and jealous and feel like I found a diamond at the flea market.
    This is better than your best. A preface to your life’s work.
    So freaking excellent.
    Larry

    1. Dearest Larry, hello there, thank you for calling me by my full name people rarely do and I so appreciate it πŸ™‚ I do remember that song now that you mention it, (I think) I love that kind of music, this really is nothing like that kind of music, then again the bitter sweet aspect maybe? Ah my flea market doesn’t even sell good second hand My Little Ponies so i’m sure you could find me there, that’s so lovely of you to say, thank you now I only have myself to live up to πŸ˜‰ (hugs) (and kudos to anyone who says ‘freaking’ I love that expression) xo

  5. Instant favourite and I love the way you’ve done it with the repetitions. Yes, in French it is that much more poignant, isn’t it? Just like this piece πŸ’œ

  6. I loved this poem, “smelling where you lived and breathed”. I imagine a four poster bed (the old style that rich people have), where the posts stand high, and the see-through fabric is flowing overhead, and sheets are silk and the duvet is brocade. I sound like a daydreamer don’t I? Hugs xo

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