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Letting Go, by Alma Linda Martinez

Six years down the road 

perhaps there will be 

another woman who 

will stir heaven 

in my solar plexus. 

Perhaps the sound 

of her laughter 

will arouse life in me 

that I believed 

would be dormant 

through the eternities. 

Like a sleepy willow 

transformed to a palm. 

I can finally see the sun again, 

but it isn’t for me. 

It is only meant to warm 

my skin, my heart, 

and my cheeks pink 

and full of acceptance. 

The red speckled flesh 

is cooled by the tears 

that fall while 

bedsheets are tucked 

between chin and collarbone. 

I am wishing her well 

as they fall 

onto tan linen. 

I am envisioning 

everlasting joy for her 

because even if I 

saw this all wrong, 

I still want 

the best for her. 

I still want to know 

that her heart doesn’t know 

the pain mine does. 

I prefer the notion 

of being wrong. 

I prefer the notion 

of this pain being 

a solitary unreciprocated experience. 

To let go of someone you love 

is less bitter when the letting go 

is an expression of 

how dear they became to you. 

I want to let her go 

like I would have loved her. 

With tender and conscious intention. 

I want to set her down soundly 

before I turn and walk away. 

I want her to know that

I am a better woman because 

her light touched my life. 

I will leave no trace 

of my broken heart. 

No grievances. 

In six more years 

I may meet another 

who makes me sway 

from the dizziness 

her presence brings. 

From the spiritual reboot. 

From the power in her becoming.  

In six more years I 

may be ready when 

the rug is pulled from 

under my feet, 

or maybe I’ll wear 

a helmet just in case. 

There is no more 

time to linger here. 

There is no more time 

for suffering for something 

that never was. 

I will try to be gentle 

with myself. 

I will cry when I need to. 

Eat too much chocolate too. 

I will forgive myself for 

getting lost in an illusion. 

I will have hope that the 

Lord’s path for me will lead 

to a woman as 

remarkable and familiar 

as she is. 

Better yet…

I will have hope in 

my potential to become 

who I seek.

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