razor blade

razor blade

she had hidden the razor blade

beneath her tongue or in her cheek

maybe that’s why the kisses were so rare

and the i love you’s so hard to understand

measured (this is what she learned)

measured (this is what she learned)

I have swallowed these words like bullets.

“Crossing the Atlantic,” Anne Sexton

this is what she learned

there would be a certain amount of time

(and that would be forever)

when she would be watched

a circumspect gaze of judgment

that measured her against all other women

and left her in relief like a leaf in granite

this is how she held her head

this is how her knees touched

this is how shoes raised her heels

so that the arch of her back slightly turned

the smoothness of her skin in the light

and the fullness of her cleavage exposed

could all be dutifully captured in photographs

as the clock counted up and then spiraled down

and no one had ever once looked at her

•

this is what she knew

he would take her bare feet into his hands and lap

pressing his thumbs into the arch of each one

them together there alone he would close his eyes

while she read the words she wrote that were she

a reasonable man

a reasonable man

Then I pace in circles, waiting for me to show up. I wait and I wait, you know.

I wait and I wait in the office, she said, but me never comes. (p. 188)

Violet, Feed, M. T. Anderson

one by one

and over many many years

they took him aside

guiding him by the elbow

leaning in close

before whispering through a smile

“you’ve got to be reasonable, man”

they would say or something like it

“only with reason are we able”

one actually added once nodding

he developed no callouses

against such a relentless onslaught

and masking proved impossible

for him with his heart born on his sleeve

•

and he found he was able

to calmly pull his elbow free

by imaging he was buying her

a new pair of black boots with buckles

and he would hand her the box

while thinking of what she might wear

his heart certain that everything

matched perfectly her slipping into boots

•

of course his dreams were never reasonable

the dream began in the middle of everything

the day was gray both the sky and the ocean

he lived in a beachside condominium

with giant windows for all of the walls

a large and much older house stood nearby

its wooden deck on stilts reaching to the sea

and he knew as if someone were telling him

that the older house was soon to collapse

because the ocean was pulling away from the shore

no longer supporting the frail old house all alone

and then the deck collapsed and the house leaned

as he realized again as if someone were telling him

that the old house was some sort of library

filled in every room with books and books and books

how would he ever find anyone to help him save them

rushing into this house not on fire but about to fall

he woke to the anxiety of losing books in a dream house

heavy as black buckled boots walking across his heart

the last straw (touching)

the last straw (touching)

“The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener

is in the touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just as well not

have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime.”

—Granger to Montag, Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury

“You were only waiting for this moment to be free”

“Blackbird,” The Beatles

it was only ever you

who really knew me

the exposed me and the true

and i suppose that was the final straw

i tried to take you

for sushi once

but the restaurant was closed

so we had Thai instead

then later at a bar nearby

i cried talking about my daughter

because i am the type of crier

who makes others turn away

and now some times

i pretend we are alone

listening to “Blackbird”

on The Beatles’ White Album

sharing a beer from a can

and talking about the novels

i have gathered

on a shelf only for you

•

i am sitting alone at a bar with friends gathered for a holiday party

adults hold babies and beers while children weave through the talking

one father stands in a small group his daughter close with her back to him

he reaches almost without looking tucking her exposed shirt tag under the collar

then he gently rubs the curve of her spine along her impervious child’s neck

and there in that touching and her still everyone else disappears and then silence

as i drift on that father’s love of a child once again back to you humming “Blackbird”

abeyance

abeyance

when i fell in love with you

birds dropped from the sky

in abeyance

when you walked away from me

the mountains refused to rise above

in deference

•

i cannot find all the crayons

to finish the picture we started

i dreamed you took them with you

i dreamed you took them with you