Sunday, November 18, 2007

The Gallery

I've got a gallery of stylized portraits of past mistakes in art deco frames hanging from the recesses of my brain
Every once in awhile I like to wander through admiring the pictures so I can get another look at you
I still have your phone number as it seems to be impervious to the quarterly contact deletions that occur on my cell
I can't tell you how many times my thumb has dangled over that button, just centimeters away from cutting the last line that still connects me to your life
A digital umbilical cord that feeds me false hope and shattered dreams like rapidly deteriorating film reels that sputter and click in rhythmic repetitions of tragic drum beats
And I was always on the edge of my seat constantly admiring you like a starlet on the silver screen
The academy of me was almost all agreeing on presenting you with the prestigious honor of an Oscar in the form of a diamond ring
Then time changed something
It swept in like a thief, clinging to shadows and holding its breath till violent gasps exploded from the depths of its chest
In those ugly inhales we would spend the evenings turned away from each other, clutching the covers, considering if these encounters would happen with another
Blood shot eyes peering over our shoulders at each other, words crouching behind our lips, waiting to ambush the next chance that we would get
Until the thief learned how to breathe freely and walk among us easily, whispering phrases like "he doesn't need me"
And that little bastard would run back to my ear, perching on my shoulder telling me that she doesn't want me here
He would reassure me that I'm a man, I have my pride, and I can't be trifled with emasculating statements like "I'm sorry" or simple gestures like wrapping my arms around you when you cried
I almost called you when I was standing in the cold outside
Unfortunately that same invisible barrier that protects your cell phone spectre also won't allow the pressure to my fingertips to ring your line
I wanted to tell you to walk out and take a look at the first star that caught your eye
And how I imagine that on that star is an alternate world where we killed the thief and set everything right
But I realize now more than ever
Not everything dies

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