Letting Go

Today

I couldn't carry your memory 

any further,

so, I let it go.

 

So many times 

you've warmed me in winter,

but after awhile

its harder to be warmed

by an older memory,

than a newer one.

 

The seasons inside us

are lacking in order,

and every second

holds its own secret.

Half desperate,

we made our own winter

in trying all the time

to close the space.

 

Ahh, how we wanted warmth...

Yet, making love to get it

only made us colder

afterwards. 

  

One day, 

safe in someone else's summer,

I shall know that

falling out of love

is not so much saying 'Good-bye',

as saying less and less

that means 'Hello'.