lady m

in

talking to a man, latte in hand i'm older now than you were when we met. and how old you seemed then. but we knew so little, the two of us.

now i feel like you're just the out-out-damn'd-spot story of my life. me, wringing my hands. me, rubbing out a life--a love--that no one else knew was there.

but it's right here i want to say. here on these hands that were held by him--that touched him and traced him and scooped something out of him. my hands are full of him, i want to say.

when the only thing they're full of now is my own uncertainty. and no one needs to see that to know it is there.

 photo by sam shorey

i totally would

in ,

 

not terribly long ago--but just enough ago--i sat with a man at a bar.

i made him come to me. that's the thing about carroll gardens, now i make the men come here.

we sat and chatted and i felt lonely next to him.

carroll gardens is too quiet for me, he said. i could never live here.

good, we don't want you, was all i could think.

i'll take the quiet and i'll take carroll gardens. no need for you. i say now that the man will have to come and drag me from this place. me with my heels dug in, me so in love with this sleepy corner of brooklyn with it's superior food and late-afternoon-glow.

when my dark secret is that i'd chase the-right-one down to the ends of the earth. and when he asked me to leap from the flat edge of this world... i totally would.