"Don't look so sad"
I don't want to see her again. No more pain. This one has barely healed. It hurt too much on that grey day when she said no to my longing eyes. "Don't look so sad," they used to tell me. I'm taking a different road now, I make a detour, I avoid her shop and her silhouette in the window. How I used to love her flexible waist, her wild perfume, her crooked mouth ... I don't want to meet the small golden spots in her hazelnut eyes. It makes me unhappy. "Don't look so sad." I know, I have to pretend that all is well to reassure the others.
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Author's Note
In memory of Kris Kristofferson.
As always, all my English texts are translations of my French texts. (same author). If anyone wishes to see the French version, it's okay.
Other stories by Erika Byrne-Ludwig
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Lovely. Wonderful details. Love the grey contrasted with golden. I don't think I know Kris Kristofferson's work except for Bobbie McGee which I love.
I thing the repetitions of the quoted phrase here are quite brilliant. It reminds me so much of Christopher Bowen's masterpiece "the flowers were for this", where the titled phrase gets repeated 4 times. It's like a bass note creating an emotional reverb through a piece of music. Just love it.
ThanksDianne and Eamon.
Erika, this captures so much.
" How I used to love her flexible waist, her wild perfume, her crooked mouth ..."
Sends me.*
Thanks Tim.