by Lisa Marie Brodsky
You scared me! You pointed at me.
I did not mean to, my love; I did
not mean to unlock myself so that
I could not close up once more,
a healthy boundary, to be sure.
You scared me, you told me
over the phone. I cant handle you.
as if I was a jigsaw puzzle put together
and wavering over a vast ocean,
the wind threatening my togetherness.
Something threatened us, thats for sure.
Perhaps you counted how many times
you said I Love You and the number
was too high. Perhaps in my fragility
you could not see my power
always there, but perhaps you had
to know me a little longer to know that.
You turned me to stone for two days,
you with your unworkable answers,
your determined look-away.
The crumbling was hard to resist
as I said I had unlocked my life
and let you in, didnt want to let you go,
but you were not ready for my life.
The sidewalk is hot from Julys breath.
I stay inside, sit in front of the box fan
which blows my hair back so it
feels like your fingers. I sit until
chasms are closed, until I close my heart
once again, lose a little bit
of trust, learn a little bit more
about love: that nothing
can reproduce it.
Posted on 08/08/2007
Copyright © 2022 Lisa Marie Brodsky