this is the reason i failed you (a polaroid)

this is the reason i failed you (a polaroid)

explanations and apologies are not excuses

i have never cared much for ceremonies and formal occasions

but a father giving away his daughter in marriage has a power

you daughter now married and moved into your own home

your mother has begun to clean up and out to face our new world

she has begun to sort our photographs and there they were among duplicates

two polaroids from your visits to the dentist—one marked 5 ½ and one 6

in that half year you had your hair cut short and in the second it is summer

you are smiling widely and from your shorts are the two thinnest legs ever

this is the reason i failed you

i broke under the dual weight of love and my obligation to keep you safe

the latter an ugly and impossible thing that cancels the first and most important

i cannot fathom now how those spindly legs of yours even held you upright

how you walked through the next 16 years under your own power and will

you my daughter are clearly too much for those legs or for my love and failures

and it there that i buckled time and again incapable of my duties and the force of you

explanations and apologies are not excuses

i am sorry

sorry i am the frail one

i saved those polaroids from the trash

placed them on my desk at work

i watch those twins of you past

and remind myself this is your world to walk

i watch those twins of you past

and remind myself your legs are magnificent and powerful

i have never cared much for ceremonies and formal occasions

but a father giving away his daughter in marriage has a power

i stood too long at the edge of us (tighter)

i stood too long at the edge of us (tighter)

I watched you fall.
I think I pushed.

“Diminished,” R.E.M.

i did not rush into a burning building

carrying you through smoke and flames to safety

i did not leap off a cliff into a churning river

pulling you against the current and resuscitating you on the shore

i did stand too long at the edge of us

leaving you no recourse except to push me overboard at last

•

[otherwise]

if i had not caved to fear and “quiet desperation”

if i had stood fully and openly at the center of us

we have not seen each other for a long time

and you lie on the bed asking me to hold you

with your arms and legs wrapped firmly around me

i know that the only thing i should do is say “tighter”

gasoline (callouses)

gasoline (callouses)

"Perfection exacts a price, but it's the imperfect who pay it."

MaddAddam, Margaret Atwood

i have learned to hate myself

doused in gasoline

self-immolation through coming to know

the light at the end of the tunnel

•

my skin has grown callous

everywhere you have not touched me

everywhere you do not touch me

everywhere you will never touch me again

ignored desire must find a way to survive

the long cold winter of your absence

in the abrasive wake of not being chosen

as if nothing every really mattered at all

these callouses now cover a war with myself

this never-ending longing to touch and be touched

and the realization i ache to read this book with you

so that we can talk and talk and talk and talk

text sent to my daughter on her wedding day

text sent to my daughter on her wedding day

don't require perfect today
or ever

if you require perfect
nothing is ever good enough

those closest to you
are never good enough

and you'll never be happy
and neither will they

tomorrow will come regardless
of how today goes

let go
let it be

enjoy today
and then tomorrow

“invisible & weightless” (time machine)

“invisible & weightless” (time machine)

I am invisible and weightless…

“Graceless,” The National

i am no Alice

no Dorothy

no H.G. Wells

no mirror

or tornado

or time machine to transport me

i am left with only memories

and imagination to rearrange

moments i cherish of you

•

it is the weekend of my 50^th birthday

and we have given each other secretly

a weekend on this island in diapause

yes we play Scrabble and talk over meals

we share a single bed without touching

and buy you something warm to wear

on the last day we stall our parting

standing and talking in a parking lot

before i offer to fill your car with gas

just as you start to drive away with a wave

i gesture for you to stop and go to you

asking if i can kiss you before you leave

i can see your face suddenly flush red

putting you as i do between your two hearts

i lean any way into your car to taste your lips

•

it is the weekend of my 50^th birthday

and we have given each other secretly

a weekend on this island in diapause

yes we play Scrabble and talk over meals

we share a single bed without touching

and buy you something warm to wear

on the last day we stall our parting

standing and talking in a parking lot

before i offer to fill your car with gas

just as you start to drive away with a wave

i gesture for you to stop and go to you

asking you to step out of your car please

i hug you and breath deeply close to you

before i take your face in my hands looking

directly into your eyes so that i can say to you

i love you with all my heart soul and bones

and i will love you completely and always

i turn your face slightly so i can kiss your cheek