A Tale of Love
Hubert at 38
and weighing 427 pounds
an only child
father dead long ago
all his life with his mother
so when she passed away
the man was crushed
but when he returned
to Spinoza high school
after a week of mourning
he told me
of a dream about Monique from Martinique,
how she fell in love with him.
“Maybe if I lose weight
the dream will come true, ” he said.
So Hubert struggled up the stairs each day
cut way down on calories
and slowly began to lose weight.
Everyone at Spinoza was amazed.
In May Hubert announced
he was going to spend
the summer in Martinique
where he was certain he would find Monique.
The last week in June
Hubert walked on air
as he had lost 110 pounds
and looked positively thin,
relatively speaking. I told him
to call me, or write.
“You’ll get postcard a week, ” he said.
On July 8th, July 16th, August 7th,
and August 20th
I received lovely picture postcards
from Hubert. Monique
had not yet found him
but the warm blue waters were comforting
and the people friendly.
Three days later a call. They found
my name and address
on a letter in Hubert’s room.
Drowned in his bathtub.
“How? ” I asked.
“Drowned, ” the heavily accented voice replied.
That night I dreamt of Monique
by the azure abyss
of the Caribbean sea,
shimmering under stars,
her bottom round and pure,
brown hair floating on a tropic breeze
when suddenly the back shifted
and she turned.
“Oh, don’t touch yourself there, ”
I whispered as she stroked her thighs.
I’m Hubert’s friend.”
She spoke in French.
I couldn’t understand a word
but such sweet tones,
like delicate chimes,
like crystals caressing
and the surf rumbled,
and the warm wind
rushed through dense leaves
creating an hypnotic incantation.
“It is good
and be loved in return, ” I said
but really wanting
to ask about Hubert.
“Fat people suffer the most, ”
she said in perfect English,
this Monique from Martinique,
“and they suffer until they die.”
moonlight in her tears.
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