Lapse Poem by The Poet SPIEL

Lapse

In this rare moment of clarity
Gerald says
my eyes should be brighter,
I should be taller
and more handsome
like he remembers
when we were young.

He's right.
I stood taller
and my eyes were bright
but I wonder if
he recalls he was taller
and does he know
his eyes are hollow glass now
and not so easy for me to love?

I suppose I should be thrilled
that he can speak
though lately he's mistaken me
for my haughty brother Ben
but today he calls me Bessie
my long-dead sister's name

just like he used to do
when we dressed
in cowboy garb
to dance the boy bars
and he always said
I wobbled on my boot heels
just like Bessie wobbled
on those dreadful pearly stiletto heels
we bought for her
on our first Greyhound bus outing
from Denver
to Frederick's of Hollywood.

When Bessie croaked
her stilettos became sacred.
These days I brush Gerald's teeth
the same way I cared for Bessie's shoes
but he spits them out
and gags on baby food
then shakes his fist at me
like he doesn't know who I am

so I shove his dentures
between my gums
to bite down on Bessie's heels
but they pierce my tongue
as I press my face to Gerald's breast
just to feel
but the pulse I feel
is my own heart.

_____The Poet SPIEL