I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have had the experience of a clandestine love affair, in which the dominant experience was waiting. That gave me plenty of time to write many poems. I honed my mature poetic voice. The poems became integral to the seduction of us both as I wove a multitude of spells. The spells were aimed at turning a long shot into a transformed reality. That casting of spells did not work permanently but it did double our time together, extending the affair by at least a year. Our two years together was successful in the way that it started, assisting her in a life transition from unhappy marriage with complications to a divorce which did not hurt the children specifically by her behavior in the ending of the marriage. We remained discreet enough and were never found out in circles that would have hurt her at home. She also went to therapy and I supported that. She started with me as an offshoot of an assignment she was given in therapy. She changed therapists to one she told about me and he at least did not object too much. I believe he sensed I was careful and eyes wide open enough. I believe he knew about me from another of his clients as well and so understood me a little.
I would do it again with her, coming at it from the place that I was at the time. I would not do it for a second time with someone else. I have no idea if she asked for my return what I would do now. There is a real argument against it. My heart still argues for it but with a sense of doom in the argument.
I wonder how common it is for someone to see sense in returning to former lovers.
I think I have posted before on the Blue Moon, which is involved with the quarterly seasons rather than the actual months. Google it. There really is a Blue Moon, and there are others with other names too. I forget exactly, but I could Google it too as I did the first time I wanted to know.
Waiting For The Blue Moon
I waited for you
to come to me at the blue
moon, planning, dreaming,
hoping for true love
once in a blue moon with you,
with the blue presence
of your eyes, your eyes,
and your truest words of grace
and your feather touch.
June 6, 2009 4:52 PM
Contraction
1 week ago
A clandestine love. It sounds so romantic and dangerous. I'm glad you both seem to have come out of it okay.
ReplyDeleteohhhh Christopher you know i love to reply to this.
ReplyDeletebut it just happens to be i am on someones else's computer, and you know how it is when you're with some one else's love for a bit.
i steal one quick kiss x
We did come out of it okay, me more than her, but there are reasons for that. She came out smack dab in the middle of her own destiny, and I did too. Thanks for hoping so. The thing about being on the wrong side of "the law", you have to do it more perfect. You have no slack. While there may be those moments that allow wide open joy, there are many other moments where you have to watch your ass.
ReplyDeleteJozien, you may have a kiss any time you want, except maybe it is better stolen...
I wrote something about blue once, too; also a clandestine love, unfulfilled. The flash of blue was in the colour of a jacket, as well as, I suppose, the eyes, though that cornflower blue has never been the colour that draws me most. This is lovely.
ReplyDeleteI am happy you like it. You probably never get out of clandestine love without hurting a lot. If unfulfilled then that's the pain. If fulfilled, then its eventual loss, that's the pain. I don't think you get to translate clandestine love to some kind of open and fulfilled love very often.
ReplyDelete"She came out smack dab in the middle of her own destiny, and I did too." As I did in my experience. Funny how that happens.
ReplyDeleteNope. No going back. Don't see the sense there. Hum. Perhaps I've simply never experienced the sense. Perhaps it would be valid for someone else.
Clandestine can be many things. It can involve growth, but great hurt, too. I know you know this. It is perhaps romantic, but very dangerous, as Karen says. And when we are lucky, there is that someone there to help us through.
xo
erin