Memoirs of my boulevard

Lovers of pain and comfort, unconditional with puppy dog eyes wide shut Head on my stomach fur coat attired foetal and like old things, worn Moments and memories dispensed a hairs breath between prickles and whiskers tease rubbing the shredded skin of dissociation Thoughts escape, awakened stirred and panting Playful ball sports and eyebrows raise sniffing familiarity Belly rubs and legs splayed assuming the mould from in behind, the scene anticipation hungry for food Dependence in exchange for love money in exchange for lust No flea’s here, no blood, no life-sucking thoughts here comfort wrap fur-lined with licky tongue slobbering kisses of conversation Done and dusted.

"How long will the pain last?" A broken-hearted mourner asked me. "All the rest of your Life," I have to answer truthfully. We never quite forget. No matter how many years pass, we remember. The loss of a loved one is like a major operation. Part of us is removed, and we have a scar For the rest of our lives. As years go by, we manage. There are things to do, people to care for, Tasks that call for full attention. But the pain is still there, not far below the surface. We see a face that looks familiar, Hear a voice that echoes, See a photograph in someone's album, See a landscape that once we saw together, And it seems as though A knife were in the wound again. But not so painfully, And mixed with joy, too, Because remembering a happy time is not all sorrow; It brings back some happiness with it, too. How long will the pain last? "All the rest of your life." But the thing to remember Is that not only will the pain last, But the blessed memories as wel...