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Path to Self

The journey of a woman/wife/lover on the path to self

The Wife

his love, never fallen into her
evident to both for long
her non-denial from the onset
hurtful honesty
then, no longer
only at the end

no wasted effort on his part
all had to go along his way

yet, she, resolute
reared in full idiocy
of accommodating - except for the self
brought up in static obedience
gratifying - except for the self
catering to him incessantly
catering to his household
catering to his profession
catering tirelessly
catering

his
ego
grew
more and more
just more and more
as
as were
as were such
as were such growth
as were such growth at all
as were such growth at all possible

one day, she was no longer
body intact, surely
yet, she was no longer
she was no
she was
she

The Beloved

1

My love doesn't long for another,
for the beloved is in the breath.
Surrenders with zealous fervor,
as the beloved is as was once.
Doesn't force life onto death,
while the beloved brings a breath.
Doesn't die with each passing day,
as do those who with ease forget.

My love is a promise from the core,
resists time until skins decay;
for the beloved is found anew,
however with a tragic delay.
Submits until the last breath,
without pushing life to death;
doesn't die day by day,
while still taking in and out a breath.

2

Clad in yearning once again.
The night passes in vain.
The body seeks its twin
With no single relent.

Decades lived apart;
the soul surpasses body.
Desire will no doubt fade.
Still...
The night won't want to end,
the day won't want to descend.

Clad in yearning once again.
The day comes and goes in haste;
along with memories of roots profound.
As if love had never taken flight,
or two hearts never pulsated as one.

3

A life of convenience. Over 4000 square feet.
Privileged. Secured. Drawn his future's map.
Dark window cover.
Tinted windows.
Dark shutters.

Then...

There is you.
My love on you;
your love and you;
the skin-tight you.

A gift nearby,
yet from afar,
where the sun wakes up the sea,
the sea tucks in the sun.

Yearning, unceasing...
Yes. Oh yes.
The sun does set
but it rises again.
 


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Copyright © The copyright of all stories, poems, non-fictional essays and any and all uncategorized writings under the user name "hopeful4" belongs to hülya yılmaz.

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