At the temple there is a poem called “Loss” carved into the stone.
It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out.
You cannot read loss, only feel it.
Memoirs of a Geisha // Arthur Golden
SOL: Potent
the heady desire
to peel it all off, to see
if i am still soft
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 225.”
SOL: Glutton
i watched in awe as
she devoured me whole, my love
dripping down her chin
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 224.”
SOL: Jouet
Was I unfair, or
was it his fault for thinking
it had meant something?
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 223.”
SOL: Expectant
Waiting with bated
breath, counting on his fingers
the time he has left.
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 222.”
MIND: Omission
What an odd thing a diary is:
the things you omit are more important than those you put in.
The Woman Destroyed // Simone de Beauvoir
SOL: Toska
It isn’t that I
miss you (I do)… it is a
deep, soul-wrenching ache.
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 221.”
SOL: Lilas
Your hands held tightly
in mine as the lilacs bloomed
almost thirty times.
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 220.”
SOL: Ache
I marvel at the
trauma stored between my bones.
How can I let go?
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 219.”
SOL: Ange
She suffers so well
in silence, she never thought
to ask for comfort.
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 218.”
