"In Vain"
Confused,
I search through poems by Jimmy Santiago Baca and Francisco Alarcan:
snake poems, love poems, and screen-door-and-summer-day poems
the answer somewhere in the pages,
the answer somewhere in the air.
I summon all my intellect against time and gravity
wanting for something to be wrong with you.
The other night stuck outside my locked gate,
you rang to ask if I had a dog.
Practiced in the art of boundaries,
I walked slowly down the path
let you ogle me from the other side.
I’m no longer that woman who makes excuses for lovers.
I’ll just leave. I won’t turn back.
At dinner, we talked about babies and super heroes,
the first time we were kissed and the last.
There was a list. We did not talk about your ex-wife. My ex-husband.
And beneath the table, legs crossed,
I waited for you to touch me.
The void that exists between us
is aching, pulsing as it waits.
When you dropped me off at 1:30 a.m., I leaned over
your armrest expanse to kiss you goodnight
but reaching the other side, you did not meet me half-way.
Instead, you waited with your eyes open.
I pecked you on the lips and slipped away. Into the ebon night.
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