Now That You Are Gone, You Are Everywhere
Now that you are gone, you are everywhere.
Take this orchid, for instance,
its swollen lip, the scrawny stalk’s one
descended testicle… –J.D. Mc Clatchy: Orchid
How did you escape the fast hold of my arms?
Were you not supposed to be locked into position?
Like a blank thing that takes meaning from my every gesture?
How fabulous that you have found light beyond me.
Oh, don’t misunderstand me, I admire your blatant fortitude.
And, as it turns out, I don’t mind being here without you.
It’s just that everything you left behind bears your imprint.
Like this bed, for instance, how you furrowed the one side.
And the knives you liked to wave at the side of my head.
Not that I minded, you understand: that was your playfulness.
As were the slur of words you flung at the dog.
Who doesn’t miss you at all, I have to admit.
Still, there was something about you: a glint, a shine.
Like scissors jabbing away at paper dolls.
