This is so gorgeous. I've thrown away lingerie that was bought for a specific lover, but which can't be worn without thinking about that person. You did the right thing. Throw it away. Let it go.

I have trouble throwing away clothing, which I obsessively imbue with personal meaning. But after I have gotten rid of a shirt I once loved, I never seem to miss it as much as I thought I would.

Great metaphor/memory. Love it.

I am now finally going upstairs to throw away stuff I have held onto for far too long, and for all the wrong reasons.

Thank you.

You evoke shadows and memories of dappled sun floating in through the window. Yet, don't you find that though the object is gone the essence of the time together remains? I know I do.

Just once? What a shame. Fascinating slice of the feminine psyche.

Poems good. HB

Well, this certainly says it all, and in such an artful way.

This says so much in less than 50 words. Wonderful.

Very nice poem...remembering and then letting go. Really lovely.

very evocative poem...you got me thinking about the things I choose to keep or toss based on the memories evoked. I have a bottle of perfume that I can't part with, but which I only wear when I want to relive a time and a feeling.

You are my inspiration. I'm finally going to unearth my memory-laden lingerie and toss it today.

Excellent poem -

"your shadow faded
into the lace."

Felt like a passing from one stage to the next. Yes - peece, dj

Thank you, Lorraine. How I love the word 'gorgeous'. Always have. This means much to me today, from you.

Rich, I get what you're saying and I thank you for that wisdom. Very much.

Thank you, Lea. I'm glad you were here.

WSFtC, do it. I promise you'll feel.... better? Glad? Relieved? I don't know. But it counts, whatever you feel.

Intermezzo, shhhhhhhhhhhhh. That's what I'm trying to avoid... Thanks for reading.

Jimmymac, yes, once. Just once. The one time. Only once. Did I mention it was just once? It was. One. Time. Ever.

Thanks, HB. I appreciate the read.

m.a.h. - I guess so. Summed up. There it is.

Thanks, Cartouche. I like when you stop by. Glad you enjoyed.

Charity, Thank you. I keep thinking of your poem from yesterday, too. We could do an anthology.

JK, I don't know.... a scent is different, isn't it? I say keep it. Give it more and new chances to make memories. Thanks.

Athena, thank you for reading. Do it. And then tell me how you feel. I'm curious.

Thank you, Jimenace. That's the goal. You got it.

fuck.

sorry, but it is my highest compliment. I think you already knew that.

I so enjoyed this! What a beautiful way to move on.

Duane, yes. I think I fucking knew.

Thanks, WAH. I appreciate the comment and the read.

Oh, wow. Beautiful. Resonates.

Thanks, Verbal, for reading and commenting.
I spent a little time on the bra site last night, per your post from a few weeks ago. Thinking I'll go to a store in person this weekend and buy a few new ones.

*sigh*

I know this emotion
yet I tend to hold onto those mementos, memories...

hey, Brian

I know, tough to let go, but in this case, harder to hang on to.

Thanks for reading.

Yes, great metaphor indeed. Quiet, simple and effective piece.

I still have trouble wearing a brightly colored shirt that I wore last to see a dying friend. It will always remind me of trying to create sunlight where there was none. The shirt might as well be black by now.

Beth, thanks. I'm glad you read this one.

Maybe you did create a little sunlight. Maybe. In your friend's eyes or mind, maybe.

I have an old poem I wrote about a friend who died ten years ago;
it's about how he looked against the stark, white, so very white hospital sheets during that last visit. Something about how the crisp sheets weren't soft enough, warm enough, comforting enough for a dying man. I don't know how it all fits... but I remember what I wore that night, too. I remember thinking about what to wear.

Oh this is so evocative. You took me back and inside with this. I've thrown away (or given away) many items, especially clothes and photos, that were holding me in the grip of bad mojo. It's liberating.

Sally, thanks for reading. I'm glad it said something to you that felt familiar.

Something about those items.... shedding them seems to free up and reframe the memories. I don't know why that is, or why the things carry such weight, but I need to remember to trust the process of getting rid of the them.

I loved this
and your new avatar is gorgeous, pretty lady.

Ohhh, Julie. You know I adore all of your comments. Thank you.

Hope you're enjoying CA and the trip is memorable. I've wanted to check in with you since Thursday night. That was so good of you dear woman.

I have this habit of continually running across posts late. Longing and loss - the poem makes my heart break.

Never late, Shivaun. People find poems when they're supposed to find them and not a minute before.

Thanks for reading and the note.

And yes, those last two lines strongly evocative.

Thanks, scoubidou. It's true. I saw everything in that lace.

Ah, god. I never expected to see anyone else put this into words.

She lied.... seems I struck a little nerve with this one. Who knew?

For all the stuff we all talk about.... there's so much we don't.

Thanks much for reading.

A poem of true resignation. rated

yes, thank you for putting this down in words. for making me feel that i'm not alone in the madness of personalizing every little thing. i've even started NOT taking lovers to parks, places, restaurants, sharing music or movies, for fear of having them associated after a breakup. is that nuts?

thanks for reading, scupper.

halfof42, thanks for reading. I hope it's not nuts, because I've done it, too. I lost a whole city once after a sad break-up and after that I started to be cautious about where I took new dates. In fact, I never took another lover to my favorite art museum. I keep that to myself, thus no risk of potential bad memories.
Hmmmm, maybe we're both nuts?

Oh gosh, I have to read all your poems. When you said that for all the things we all talk about, there's so much we don't talk about . . . well, it's true. I have something brewing now inspired by these words.