Dearest name,
repeated fervently,
bringing me such
sudden joy, a
smile each time,
like a stolen, secret
prayer;
waiting by the forgotten
lanes for a single
glimpse
drawn by an unexplained
foolishness –
how do we forget
such a name,
and the hopes
that rested so
tenderly upon it?
There was no high
drama
where I was called to sacrifice
myself to a callous,
immobile
lover
but how strange it is
to feel
that I still love you,
though you so coldly
abandoned
me
I must forget,
erasing all the imagined
moments of exuberance,
retiring to a quiet, backward
silence,
reflecting
Rigoletto is not my favourite opera, but Gilda is one of my favourite operatic characters in all of the literature. What is it about her vulnerability, passion, and headstrong but naive belief in the goodness of people that I find compelling? Probably that I see those same traits in myself.
ReplyDelete