Yesterday did not inspire any writing on my so-called memoir; though try and try as I did, I just could not get any words out the way I envisioned them. Too much pressure or something. (I think I need to pretend I’m writing a blog entry in order to write them.) I did, however, come up with the following two haiku poems. I think they were inspired by remembering the simplicity of what I missed about Mike. Haikus are too easy. I’ve been using them a lot because I don’t have to say very much about how the memory made me feel. I enjoy using them to try to create images of a memory, especially when I really have little words to express the experience, and I just want to leave the impression about the memory that lingers in my own mind. Hopefully I did a good job here.
Rumpled bed sheets. Hash browns, eggs.
Love’s lazy muddle.
Our most precious time together was on Saturday mornings, especially if he was gone all week on business. We’d wake up, fresh, and ready to face the day, but not without lingering first to just enjoy each other’s company. I miss the laziness of putzing around the house, eating Mike’s homemade hash browns with breakfast, and watching The Fifth Element or some other movie while we snuggled together on the couch. Afterwords, we’d shower and do whatever we’d planned for the day, but the first couple hours were often aimless.
Hands grip my shoulders
Kneading gently, tingling touch.
Anytime we were out in public, Mike was usually right behind me, his hands on my shoulders as if craving the contact and couldn’t stand being unconnected with me. It was sweet, not clingy. I enjoyed the fact that he just reveled in being around me. The feeling was mutual. Our time together was usually quite precious, with his job taking him out of town so often, so when we were together, we got caught in each other’s gravity.