You Know Who You Are
You are over there—in the life that could have been, or might have
been, or should have been, if the cards were dealt differently then.
Had you not left in the dark and slept instead until daybreak when
we awakened and had we gone out into morning together we might
have made it work.
Had I been better and had you forgiven, we may have made a lasting
set of tomorrows that led into a memorable album of long yesterdays
to remember. Instead of moving on into a new city alone, with weeks
that began to grow between, had you returned, had I been braver and
ignored my doubts.
You came for a light, Avez-vous du feu? in the Jardin des Tuileries (we
knew we were both scouting something new), had we then been more
bold and moved beyond our mutual blushes and tried what we could
to push our way through that language barrier by laughing together,
then, Ami, what?
So many doors more we did not dare go through, so many impressions
across many rooms, so many likelihoods we refused to pursue, you are
over there in your half-smile, your nod, that coy wink and subtle salute.
You are over there, you know who you are, you are forever in a raffle of
what could have been.
From Post-modern Blues (forthcoming, Fall, 2021)
