No Backtracking Now, 2006

This is a chant for that lost one,
the one I’ve left. And, he was
right.

I did run.
It’s as simple as,
“I couldn’t do it anymore.”

I glanced in his truck, my truck,
and my throat started to close–shut.
We said good-bye. And, I knew that

was it. That’s it.
“I’m not good for a rebound.”
Who is--what’s that? Explain.

My mom already did, with tears
of laughter flowing down both of our faces.
Almost the same, the same colors, the same texture.

“I didn’t ask to meet you in May.”
I hesitated. It was love at first sit.
At first sit--at first spoken words.

His voice soothed my shoulders to set down.
As he asked me about this & that. About
Madison. About Maddie. (Madison Alexandra)

Who is she? I fell off.
She’s left me in my own wake.
Again, this week. Scratch & burn . . . a long skid.

Left myself in the dust. Shaking, softly.
Not the big-shakes of those other drunks.
I’m quiet when I cry. Tears streaming all this year --

no one hears me. Neither did the folks everytime
we’d leave the city, at night. I wanted to stay &
be with me, the only woman, who would “care” for me.

Hold me. The Miss. Taken again. And again.
My name is Mary. Just mary. Just mary.
I find too many. They see my smile and they

are entranced. Jane too. En-tranced into me.
Entry. Come on in! Everyone else is here.
All your friends, just romp around, it’s warm.

Or, cold.
My body is exhausted. My mind is toast.
Just let me lay-down and humm. Sweet tunes

on my lips, for you. I will always feel the lack of you,
not next to me--laying. All of you. I miss you
& it’s a permanent state. Permanence.

A lover’s prayer. For you.
Said silently, without any words spoken.
A note passed from this desk to yours.

Pencil smudged across the scrap of paper.
He would sing a song about the smell of
a school’s eraser. Erase me from your memory,

it will serve you better, my sweet-love. Just erase me
from everything. It was a mistake. Miss. Taken again.
I thought, I believed that I could do it--that you could too.

I flaked off before you even slowed to a jog. I went
back to the lake, with all of them. Sunning.
And, you ran right past. There’s no backtracking now.

I promised who I didn’t ask to meet;
any of you. It’s just what life calls a joke.
The next chapter, the next verse, the next sigh

the next glance, the next slight touch, the next
shift of your weight. We had hours to talk and we hesitated
plowing right through. We sat silent and we’re silenced.

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© 2010 by Felice Tebbe. All rights reserved.