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By terry39 Date: 2001 May 30 Comment on this Work [[2001.05.30.13.18.28712]] |
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Four Part Memory --------------------------- i. Nostalgia reigns strong tonight With thoughts of Emily. It always comes back to the pain; Back to the bleak devastation of rejection That never had to be. I was 16 The age of speed and laughter and hunger And hormones and lust And football She was 39 The age of grace, and insecurity, and sad sweet longing For a lost youth, and lost heart, a lost husband. But when I walked in unaware and saw her crying I reached out and touched her tear And with a devilish smile I touched it to my tongue saying "It's not salty enough...you should not do it unless you do it right" And that brought a ghost of a smile, Just enough to make her beautiful again Wet cheeks glowing in the summer sun. And she said "Who are you?" And even today I wonder still If I will ever find that answer. ii. "Em' may I sit on the floor And rub your feet while you read I promise to be good." But I never was I had wandering fingers and roman hands And two hours later The heat of passion always erased the words she read to me Meaning we had to start all over another day Just to find out why Oedipus was blinded. You taught me well... Just about every damn thing I know So thank you Emily for lessons learned And for explaining Greek tragedies along the way. Because some lessons are harder than others. So by breaking my heart You thought you were doing the right thing. But I still think you were wrong. iii. The promotion is a hassle and the money may not be worth it And the new house is taking forever Because the special birch trim she wanted so bad Has to come from North Carolina Petty little problems everywhere That Emily never handles very well And she gets mad when I laugh at the absurdity Of worrying about whether the carpet should have been burnished eggshell Or cottage white mist When we both knew off white is really just off white. And when I walked in the room and saw you crying over wall paper swatches The deja vu was screaming. I knew. And I was 36 The age of harried work, and convoluted deadlines And laughter and love on a regular schedule And she was 59 An age of beauty parlor blonde And insecurities and fear and deep desire to slow down the damn clock. And when I held her in my arms and asked why She just whispered "babies" And I knew God, I knew That she was saying goodbye in a single word Tears falling slowly, Like some sick two part harmony That sang the blues too, too well. A single word singing along with the tears. iiii. When I was five and my daddy starting coming home drunk And mean And taught me that hands and fists do hurt worse than words I knew he couldn't really love me. And when I was nearly seven and the school janitor Raped my mind much worse than my little body, And I tried to tell my dark secrets But no one believed me Said I had a nightmare And they were right because they were regular by then. I knew it was me That I was unlovable. But what still hurts the worse was you, Emily When you said goodbye that day in a single word Thinking you were doing it for me. When you were really doing it for fear. Fear that twenty years had proved nothing And that I would leave you in the end. So you made a pre-emptive strike Bringing my hypothesis full circle. Unloved Unlovable Reject the defect And throw him away. |