Bittersweet
“Bittersweet” was only the second poem written entirely from somebody else’s perspective - in this case from Remus’s. Before that, even though I referred to feelings I shouldn’t have experienced, I presented them as my own, they became my own. In this poem, I let myself become somebody else.
BITTERSWEET
When you fell,
our dreams you left to me
and I’ve kept them like dry flowers:
in books, in photo albums,
in the blue vase in the kitchen,
to which I raise every glass
of my evening tranquillizer.
Darling, I can’t keep them from fading,
from crumbling to unrecognisable pieces,
which I refuse to clean up in the morning
after the bittersweet scent has woken me up,
stiff and hung-over.
BITTERSWEET
When you fell,
our dreams you left to me
and I’ve kept them like dry flowers:
in books, in photo albums,
in the blue vase in the kitchen,
to which I raise every glass
of my evening tranquillizer.
Darling, I can’t keep them from fading,
from crumbling to unrecognisable pieces,
which I refuse to clean up in the morning
after the bittersweet scent has woken me up,
stiff and hung-over.