Of First Loves and High Heel Shoes

“First loves are high-heeled shoes,” he says. “They affect flesh and spirit—straighten spines, tighten thighs, make you walk like you own the galaxy. Your first changes you forever. No other will ever make you feel like I did.”

I watch him,

remember myself

wrapped in him.

“Once,” I tell him, “the sight of you pulled little moans out of my middle. The memory of us (skin-to-skin), your scent… made me want. But I don’t lust after the way I used to feel inside your body. First shoes are just shoes—perfect (once), but irrelevant after they no longer fit.”

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the wee notes…
– Linked to Friday Fictioneers. Visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog, to enjoy interesting tales. Then follow this LINK, to read what others have written about my old shoes.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, where our sweetest Sanaa invites us to write about love, using a common everyday image.

 

97 thoughts on “Of First Loves and High Heel Shoes

  1. Oooh!❤️This is deliciously intense, Magaly 😀 I love the idea of first love as high heeled shoes! Such a brilliant and profound image. Especially like; “First shoes are just shoes—perfect (once), but irrelevant after they no longer fit.” Though they make us feel emotions which we never would have otherwise, but it’s also true that once the moment has passed (and they have missed their chance) they are no longer pertinent. Sigh.. beautifully penned.❤️

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

  2. What a thought filled comparison! Your first steps in high heels are exciting, but wobbly. Determined practice brings confidence. But, like the shoes, if love isn’t a perfect fit, it begins to hurt and bind the longer you stay in it.
    I love how you let the young one grow out of lust! The cocky lover got comeuppance justly deserved! (My! I sound harsh this morn! Lol)

  3. The he in the poem thinks an awful lot of himself, doesn’t he? Fortunately, the prudent she is too busy looking forward to worry about last year’s cast offs. The tone of this is terrific and I love, love, love the structure.

  4. Dear Magaly

    I love the metaphors and images in this piece. We just outgrow some ‘shoes’ don’t we? Well done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

  5. This is just stunning:

    “Once,” I tell him, “the sight of you pulled little moans out of my middle.”

    And makes me want you to write a novel. I shall buy it.

    And that last line is perfect. Nothing worse than a sore sole.

  6. The beginning so romantic, the ending so true. Love it. “…—perfect (once), but irrelevant after they no longer fit.” My favorite line! Big hugz, Rasz

  7. I’m liking this one, lots, Magaly. I’ve written several posts, not necessarily loves, for my blogs. First loves are so very memorable. I cherish the few I’ve had with vivid memories. First was in the first grade, we had a rendezvous in the storm cellar steps at school. I have a little poem about that n my ‘girls in and out my door’ blog. I love the way you compare loves to the wearing of a shoe.
    ..

  8. As I read this, I thought of the days my feet ached from those damn high heeled shoes. Odd thoughts I must admit. Those spiked heels. narrow widths and pointy toes. YIKES … my feet hurt. Great take on the phot pormpt but, then again, es tu photographia. Well done ….
    Isadora 😎

  9. Shoes! Very personal and very telling on the person. From a distance, one can see that person cares about grooming just looking at the shoes. Rightly so Magaly!

    Hank

  10. I still have my Gardner’s Art History book. My first love was soft red leather heels.
    I used to bring them out of the box every night just to marvel at them. Thank you for reminding me and for your lovely poem.

  11. Magaly, I love your unique turns of phrase and fascinating metaphors. And thank you for this week’s picture. Those are definitely killer heels. I think I’d rather own the Art History book and keep my back aligned in the manner that nature intended!
    My courtship with high heels was a short one, after one of them snapped off by catching in a drain cover when I was stepping out of my first boyfriend’s MG convertible D: Thereafter, I went out with guys who thought that women in flat shoes were sexy in a geeky way.

    • My love affair with heels was short and scattered–my feet and I didn’t have the patience. I still find them pretty. But not pretty enough to take that kind of pain. Well, these days I can’t even choose to take it, but if I could… I’m certain I wouldn’t.

  12. “…irrelevant after they no longer fit.” Yes, so true, and such a lovely metaphor. Great photo, too. If I wasn’t, like, ridiculously tall, I would loooove shoe-boots like these.

  13. That’s right. The first pinch, the first blister, fling those shoes and let the feet breathe. (Lovely photo. I spent half the morning trying to ID the red book in the background. Finally appealed to my husband, who had it in about fifteen minutes. Strange, the things we obsess over.)

    • I find it hilarious that I never noticed how prominent the bottom of the guy on the cover actually is. I will laugh for a long time. I won’t ever look at that picture (or at the statue) without grinning, and thinking about your story. 😀

  14. High heel shoes are impossible for me to walk in without falling over! I count my partner as my first real love because he was the first person I ever dated. Definitely made those crushes look like nothing. Love is giddy at first then gets more worn in and comfy so the whole shoe metaphor is so great!

    • I think that one of the things I love most about being in love is that although it gets comfy, I continue to feel that giddiness after more than half a decade. Love is fun. And so are shoes… especially if they don’t break our ankles, lol.

  15. Just realised I’ve never loved a pair of shoes that hurt me, but I have maybe wobbled in and hurt, scuffed, broken heels, stitching, of shoes I love… Does the love last(?) maybe it turns to comfort, usually with those I spend the most time.

    • I’ve loved a pair of shoes that ended up hurting me. Somehow, they fit perfectly in the story. But after I brought them home, my feet (or, more often, a foot) would start screaming. In my case, the love has never last I refuse to make any kind of effort to stay in a relationship that gives me blisters or pinches my toes.

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