the economy of mix tapes (bygone)

the economy of mix tapes (bygone)

'Member when we argued on the concept of regret?
You were an expert even then but not me, not yet
Now all you gotta do's remind me that we met
And there you got me, that's how you got me, taught me to regret

“Regret,” Fiona Apple

“’A real story requires a kind of magical baptism to link the world on this side with the world on the other side.’”

K to Sumire, Sputnik Sweetheart, Haruki Murakami

You were right about the end
It didn't make a difference
Everything I can remember
I remember wrong

“Daughters of the Soho Riots,” The National

you taught me how to say “i love you”

and to hold my tongue with “i’m sorry”

you warned me intentions do not matter

as we walked hand in hand on eggshell paths

•

there was a certain economy of mix tapes

choosing the perfect blend of songs and order

for the one you love

when you are apart

but having only so much cassette time

(and then eventually the mysterious CD)

mix tapes had the precision and care

of quilting a poem from memorydreamregret

i regret the infinity of digital music

and the laziness of iTunes iPods and playlists

•

i know that i love you

i know that i am sorry

but i no longer know

the lines between memory dream regret

we are in the shower

it would be the last shower

a shower like a baptism

warm and washing over us

embracing until i slip to my knees

my arms encircling the center of you

my face against your stomach

and your hands on my head

i think of your armband tattoo

permanent and circling forever

i say quietly “i love you”

you reply “i know” like “good-bye”

i know that i love you

i know that i am sorry

you taught me how to say “i love you”

and to hold my tongue with “i’m sorry”

you warned me intentions do not matter

as we walked hand in hand on eggshell paths

•

no one had to tell me this

no one had to teach me this lesson

without intending to

i taught myself walking afraid:

regret is the cold dry ever after

the bygone of having let go

the jealousy of a solitary man

longing to be forever around you