November 18, 2008

Empty Handed

Hey. I been a long time gone. I have been emptied of words.

I wish I could say it hurt me less than it hurt you.

I was a bad lover. I neglected you when all you wanted was a kind word.

The harm was done first in my chest.

A man treated me peripherally. That was after I opened under his fingers, under his body. After the August night he entered me roughly. Every thrust clearing glass. I didn't know how to speak. The next day, he said, Did I hurt you. And I said what was not true: "You could never hurt me."

A man stood me up for dinner. (And I was definitely going to put out).

I didn't mean to hurt you, I think they'd say, confronted.

A man who amazes me is too far away and the distance, sometimes, isn't merely geographical.

I've been twice to Houston, city of old wounds, and it healed me. Twice I've been a few miles from the man who used to love me, and all we have now is the silence in which we keep unknowing each other.

I didn't mean to hurt him either.

Almost all the friends I saw showed me pictures of devastation.

I was not devastated.

I miss you so easily. I just noticed you weren't here. I reached across the bed for you.

It wasn't until after I quit smoking that I noticed they airbrushed the cigarette out of Bette Davis' hand.


lu said...

I'm envious--Mark and Paul get to see you read Friday. .. And I’m jealous, that you get to share air space with the two of them.

I wonder if my ears would burn if the three of you mention me when you meet, if you said, "what about that Lu..." I think I would hear you.

Yep. It would be like being there, sort of, in a cyber-friendsy way, but we wouldn't want it to be creepy;
nope. Not creepy, just like, you know, like "what about that Lu.

Fabio Sundeen said...

hey, are you teaching somewhere else now? do you miss bethany college?