When Memory Digs

The story or poem that used to live here is being rewritten… or, is on its way to a new home. But worry not, I’d never leave you without something to read. Just click the following links, and you’ll be able to delight in the newest Stories and Poems I’ve published on this blog.

61 thoughts on “When Memory Digs”

  1. That’s an excellent title, Magaly, and I love the quote. Better to accept the end than to cling to tatters.
    I also love the contrast between the ‘summery caresses’ and the burning touch ‘like winter on my tender bits’. If we could only relax that ‘bloody muscle’ that remembers.

  2. It’s always so sad when someone says “it wasn’t real love” about a love that ended, rather than holding onto the memories of what was even in the midst of what is. Things change – the love, the lovers – but love will be anything it wants to be and that doesn’t mean it wasn’t love… It takes tremendous courage to be able to accept the end while still allowing the aftertaste to linger… I love this.

  3. Anne Carson wrote an immense little book called “Eros The Bittersweet,” looking how the first written poetry by the Greeks were love-poems torn and raptured by desire. To Sappho desire is icy-hot, an assault of Eros that overwhelms in the very alphabet and words we use to describe, resist and surrender to the arrow which shoots through us. Write it. I celebrate where you take us with it.

  4. Love the title, Magaly!❤️ There is such power in your words especially love; “love is ice and fire, desire that flames or melts (anything it wants to be)” Beautifully penned!❤️

  5. I will say the thought of winter on my tender bits is quite horrifying. Ha. But when seasons change in a relationship you can def feel it in your lovers touch. And no matter how we try to justify it mentally our heart def betray us. The depth we once felt.

  6. Ah…what is real love? The eternal question. Too often we want to stuff it into a box…make it fit a familiar description. Sooner or later, that’s a formula for disappointment.

  7. That bloody muscle…how it continues to beat and bleed when love has gone. Such a brief love too! “love is ice and fire” love in the heat of summer, loss in the ice of winter, A powerful poem.

  8. I think passion is always built from opposites… the thesis and antithesis of change is life and love.

    Like Dickens once wrote: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times….

  9. but…
    that bloody muscle remembers,
    it knows love will be
    anything it wants
    to be—

    so perfectly, raw – written and placed in the heart, uh – sorry, of the matter – poem

    powerfully evocative

  10. very cool! a whole relationship in a few stanzas and the failure of logic in the aftermath to convince ourselves that what was wasn’t. knowing it was even when we don’t want it to be. the heart wants what it wants. love how you captured all that so evocatively

  11. I love this journey you are letting us peek in upon! Are we not all voyeurs, stealing glimpses into lives and situations that we feel are so much superior to our own? You are certainly making it very…ummmm steamy!

  12. Ink is never trustworthy. It can be diluted, especially with tears.

    “Tender bits” made me giggle, which threw me out of the words’ solemnity but I was caught up again by the clever conceit at the end.

    “it wants

    to be”

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