Recovery

Although I lose my love a little bit each day.

Each day becomes a little bit better.

I am gentle with myself. Patient.

Birds chirping outside my window

      Warm water on my skin

              The bucolic freshness of the sunset under the trees

Small delights build my Self. 

Away from him. 

Objects

Every single knife in the house contains his touch.

Every single door knob.

Light switch.

Pillow case.



I kiss the napkins.

So close and faraway.

Farewell

"From Middle English farewel, from fare wel!, an imperative expression, equivalent to fare (“to fare, travel, journey”) +‎ well."

Nothing truer than this wish for the one who left without looking back.

A last kiss in the darkness of the guests toilet, where I had taken refuge to blow my nose and dry my tears.

And he was gone.

The engine of his car could be heard for minutes, escaping in the night of our last embrace.