Princeton Reunions

One night, in the middle of the road in the dark
I stopped the car because I wanted to listen to the night sky
You sat next to me, and I’m sure you were anxious, and wanted to get home
But I opened the door, mutinously, as if you owed me this. Your enchantments, your promises
I heard nothing but silence, brittle and empty, although both of us wore smiles

One night, at the window, you made love to me in the dark
Fireworks splashed over the Princeton field, and your fingers over mine were silver, were gold
Afraid of the thunder and the flashing lights, your pup hid behind the washing machine
We looked for her, like before, padding all over in our bare feet. “Baby bear, brave bear!” Our voices ringing through your house
Once, after a walk along the old canal, you said she looked all over for me

You said you’d love me always. I bent over the page and sniffed the blue ink, to trace your loose hand
In the thick nights of summer I wrote to you, my face turned up at the sliver of moon. It glinted off the chimneys and was bright, so bright
I flicked the ashes of my cigarette over the roof and thought of you, sitting in the cool of your office while the day burned
I wrote to you by the panes of the coffeeshop, white-hot glass in the glare of the sun. You’d woken in the night and asked for me
I smiled at my reflection in your words on the screen. I thought of you, thinking of me

I’d parked the car so expertly on East Ninth Street
On the steps I cried and cried and cried, stoop-sitting with you in my city, by my park
People stepped around our feet and my tears, your blank face, your doll’s stare
My forgiveness – did you think it was funny then?
I looked into your eyes and I loved you, I loved you, I loved you

When you cried I held you, your head tucked beneath my chin, your shoulders shaking in my arms
“I’m so cold,” you said, your voice so small. I gave you all of my warmth
If I could take all of the bad things from you, take them away and carry them for you, I would, I tried
But you never thought of me, did you?
You owed me nothing. I deserved less.

“Morning,” you wrote, all the way from Sweden, and tacked on a photo of a subway ad
G A N T, it said.
And that was all, then. I’m your biggest mistake, your one regret
You asked me, “What am I going to do with all my love?” I believed you, I believed you
The rain beat against the windshield and I worried the tissues in my hands. They fell in pieces in my lap

I’d tell you, Just chuck it, like you did mine
But you never had any to begin with, did you?
Make me the monster, if it helps you. Lie, if it frees you. I don’t hate you
During Reunions I came giggling into your office with a pilfered pirate’s chest
You know I like boxes and, please, if it’s still there, I’d like to have it back