Inside me was a small dark space;

an empty space, a hollow place,

a place where love and light might be

but only ever in short bursts

had true love captivated me.


I called to you for many years.

I didn’t think you’d really come

but then you answered, and you were

the same shape as my missing piece,

compelling me to place you there.


You fitted, and you gripped me hard,

you gave me what I did not have;

you loved me and you needed me.

With wonderment and desperate joy

we shared exquisite chemistry.


You wove your love around my heart,

and magic from your eyes and lips

and touch and words did pierce me deep,

transfixed me with such gentleness

and open, simple honesty.


My small, dark space, now full with dreams,

had burst its banks and overflowed

with passion, love and guileless trust.

That empty space, which was once small;

that space was now the size of us.


We merged a while, we thought as one,

we spoke as one, we walked as one.

You were my mind, the centre of

my heart, my life, my waking dreams,

until the day you flew, my love.


The day that you withdrew, my love,

and took your dazzling light with you.

My world fell dark, all colour drained,

you crushed me with your parting words,

my heart stopped still, my soul in flames.


My small dark space is now a gulf,

far larger, overwhelmingly

a place of ice, no feeling there.

A huge, dark space of aching loss.

No light, no love, just cold despair.


And deep inside this empty void

it’s possible to just make out

a fleeting movement, hard to see.

A shadow flickers, faint and low,

a small, dark shape which once was me.


19 May 2017


Author: Circa Mea Pectora

Amateur wordsmith

3 thoughts on “Metamorphosis”

  1. I was almost finished reading before I realized that you were using a formal meter (iambic tetrameter?). You’ve brought it off very naturally; that may be why I didn’t catch it at first. I try to write poetry in meter, too; but it’s plodding and awful when I do it. I haven’t read contemporary poetry in meter in a long time. I’m glad to have read yours. It’s quite good.

    As for the subject matter…it’s dismaying when someone who seems to fit you so perfectly decides to keep playing the field. This person wasn’t the perfect fit that he/she seemed to be.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi there. I started by just letting it all flow out, then I tinkered with it until the words felt right, and this is just what it became. I didnt have any formal intention, just to express myself. Maybe that’s why it seems natural? I’m glad you liked it.

      Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts!


      1. What you say about the genesis of your poem sounds miraculous. I hope you have (and post) more of your work. You seem to be influenced mostly by Shakespeare?

        I enjoyed poetry in high school, mostly beatnik stuff, and then I got into Keats a little; but for the most part, verse doesn’t hold my interest for very long. I’ve got some troubadour poetry from the library, which I like a lot, but I doubt I’ll sit down and read the whole collection. My high school friend Nan Cohen recently published a wonderful book called Unfinished City, which I devoured last week. Metamorphosis is the most exquisite poem I’ve read since then.

        Thanks for following my blog. Please take a look at the translated Tao Yuanming poem I posted, and I hope you like it, even though it’s a pretty good example of my stilted style.

        Liked by 1 person

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