If We Forget…

“…if you stop loving me little by little
I shall stop loving you little by little.”
~ Pablo Neruda

 

If
you forget
me, all things
inside you will collapse,
shrivel…

If
I forget
you, my whole
being will lose meaning,
decay…

If
our hearts
forget our love,
you and I will
end.

 

via

 

the wee notes…
– linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.
– Rommy Cortez-Driks is giving away a copy of her new collection of short stories, The Trouble with Wanting, and Other Not-Quite Faerie Tales, click the link to enter the giveaway. If (like me) you can’t wait, get it here or here.

 

47 thoughts on “If We Forget…”

  1. This is gorgeously written, Magaly! ❤ Love is a force .. an energy that unites two people closely together so much so as to make them realize each other’s worth. You have portrayed that so well in your verse 😍 Thank you so much for writing to the prompt.

  2. First off, you are magnificently unforgettable! That being said, the poem was lovely, sad, but with a bit of a bite about what the consequences of what forgetting could bring! So you! I love it!

  3. I can hear the sigh in this, the breath between hope and fear. The simplicity and brevity highlight the tremulousness in the speaker’s heart, the hope that their words will be well received and the fear that it might be too late.

    • I completely agree with this interpretation. When everyone forgets, everything ends.

      About me writing poems again, I suspect you were one of the people who was not getting updates from my blog–I haven’t stopped posting. The issue is supposed to be fixed now. Fingers crossed.

  4. Oh, this is a beautiful expression of love, the end of which can only lead to such pain and suffering. The trifecta of “shrivel/decay/end” is very effective.

  5. One of the things about love is that it certainly helps us to write poetry. Every look, every touch, every kiss, provides us with more material to sing out wordy praises of our sweethearts.

    • I love, love, love how you can see exactly what is there–not a poem about loss, not a poem about perfect love, but a poem about love that understands that under the right (or wrong) circumstances… love can be pure glory (or never-ending agony).

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