make it okay, II
Part 2 of the dredged up make it okay files. Not exactly what you’d call immensely readable, layout wise.
At times like these a bit of copy/paste comes works a treat. The non-squinty version bunged below:
my eyes are bright with tears & runway lights I was a child bride, the little fish you should have thrown back. But I begged you to keep me. So you watched over me like an old sage, saw my hips fill out, my eyes bulge at the slippery oyster that was the world. I adored you; you taught me everything I knew. You are wise & beautiful like an ancient axolotl. Your skin has worn more days than I could ever imagine. You showed me a person I could become, pointed her out & said: the world is but a succession of tomorrows. this could be you. do you like the look of her? & I said yes, yes. I liked the look of her, this unformed mannequin giddy with potential’s aphrodisiac. I am old now. Well, older. Those were heady days. After the day of the runway lights, we never met again. I saw your name on the divorce papers. Our lawyers met over boozy lunches & orchestrated our undoing. Our hearts filled with red tape. I was a slip of a thing, your protégée. You saw something in me. I was unschooled in the ways of love & you were patient with me. I grew hungry for your gaze. & somewhere in it all I became a woman. I lay beside you every night & thanked the Lord for the gift of your gnarled body. I loved every one of your deformities, touched upon your sores lightly. I blossomed. You took me to the end of the pier & made me look at the ocean. You said: it is time. I do not have the right to keep you. the future is bright; it beckons you. This was news to me. We passed through the fairground. I threw balls into the stunned open mouths of painted clowns & did my best to understand your meaning. I won a stuffed donkey & gave it your name. My tears could have filled many thimbles; they were the ocean in miniature.
Filed under: found stuff, love, mortality, poetry | 1 Comment
Tags: apparitions, distance, eternal youth, love, poetry, writing