Sunday, 2 September 2007

The First Love


She was determined to believe that her first love was something worth remembering, worth yearning. She kept the fire warm around her love, never let it cool down, and vanish into dust.
She blew sighs of desires towards the fire to keep it in flames.

She soaked her feet in lukewarm water, and coloured her nails with the colour of love, red and hot. She painted high and thin eyebrows on her forehead, and her fleshless lips she covered with carmine red, the same blush on her pale and dry cheeks, thin like paper, wrinkled by time.

Her pearly skull glittered underneath her thin hair. She belted her skinny waist, her skirt swirled around her as she danced in her ballerinas.

She sat and wrote the letter she had written before, every year, for many years. She believed that while she still remembered, her love wouldn’t forget her, and she wrote the words “I love you still”, the same words she whispered to herself every morning.

She put a stamp on the envelope, hid the letter in her cupboard, along with all the hundreds of letters never to be sent.



18 comments:

Little Sister Araneida said...

She needs a drink!

SusuPetal said...

Or maybe she needs a friend.
Or love, little sister Araneida...

Mick said...

I need a drink!!!

Little Sister Araneida said...

We have two people who need a drink. Perhaps this is a beginning for a beatiful friendships:)

griesmail said...

So beautiful the image and words.
glass of red wine will do...!

SusuPetal said...

Oh you drunks! No use in telling you just to enjoy the story, Mick, Little sister and Griesmail:) Ok, let's open the bottle. Cheers!

Rita said...

Good Heavens! I had to read the story through three times, looking for something about a drink I had missed - only to discover that it had been the first commentator who mentioned the drink, hah hah!

So a great number of comments, but not so much on the actual story. A very interesting little story. Makes one think.

However, first I need a drink... See you later!

hpy said...

Well, I won't take a drink yet. It's only 9.11 AM! But I think it's better to think about your last (latest) love, not the first one!!! And don't tell me I'm pragmatic!

SusuPetal said...

Yes Rita, one could think this was a story about drinks, but the truth is always something else.
Enjoy your drink.

HPY, I agree, it's better to think about your last love, but I believe the woman in this story had only one love -the first and the last one.

hpy said...

Then she should think about her future love instead!

Peter said...

Nice dialogue between you and hpy!

At what age do you stop thinking of future loves, asks a rather old man?

SusuPetal said...

That's a good idea, HPY!

Don't ask me, Peter! I believe the answer has nothing to do with age but the relationship one currently has or has not.

Peter said...

Good, I can still hope then!

SusuPetal said...

Mais, bien sur, Peter:))

KennethSF said...

I wonder about the many secret draws and cupboards in our psyche, filled with all the words that we have failed to deliver to our first loves at some critical moment or other. What a source of poetry these containers must be!

SusuPetal said...

Unspoken words could make a thick book, Kenneth -worth inspecting.

JoAnn - NL "My digital eyes" :) said...

Hi Susus Pertal,
I like the compination of the painting and the words, very intersting and exiting, Thanks!

:)JoAnn from Holland

(be welcome to visit my photography blog)

SusuPetal said...

Thanks for your comment, Joann