B.. Alexander

Sixty Shards Of Photograph - Poem by B.. Alexander

I didn’t expect to find your face at my door tonight
I never thought you’d ever come around here
So; a pot of tea, politely pedestrian talk to set at ease
A handful of facts, none with emotion attached
But I almost want to ask
Didn’t you used to be beautiful?

Some questions you pose with that curious smile
Some things you already know but just want to hear said
I hand you a folded bag of forgotten nothings
Sixty minutes and you’re already itching to go
But I secretly want to know
Didn’t you used to be beautiful?

Causal goodbyes sewn to intensely lingering glances
You sit behind the wheel of the car we chose
Pulling away, you give me the flimsiest parting wave
I turn back towards the house and breathe again
But all I want to know is
Didn’t you used to be beautiful?

Back then, in those years that vaguely formed my life
I shared a home with the most inspiring girl I’d ever known
She could move me with the raise of her eye lid
I could lie awake for hours as she slept, in awe
But tonight, sitting here
She was morbidly plain, pale and lifeless

I go back inside the house and find that envelope
Sixty slivers of an image I tore but couldn’t bin
Drunkenly reassembling the vision of her
On the kitchen table where we talked tonight
I just wanted to know
Did she used to be beautiful?

Did I ever see things as they were - or were my eyes tainted by love
And does it matter if they were?
Does it matter if they were
As long as the love was real?

Oh, well it doesn’t matter now
Because now that love is dead...


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 11, 2010

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