“You have a yellow
fleck in your eye. Have you noticed that?” You said that once, yes? Women are
easy to remember, and yet I only remember that about you. I could say there was
a smell to you, or perhaps a particular gait for which you stood out to others.
Or maybe you are the sort of woman who wears back seamed nylons to the office.
Perhaps boys snickered when you passed, and keys fumbled the hands of men
getting into their cars. But time is an acrid black smoke and so much has passed
between us. All I can remember is
your voice. Shit I can’t remember your voice, just that it was your voice that
put the yellow spot on my mirror around which this old face grew. Why don’t
eyes wrinkle?
I have to lift my
neck to shave it. Applying my
shaving cream now makes the noise that my razor used to. There’s a race going
on – and I don’t know which will win, my nose hair or my neck hair.
Concrete sidewalks
are difficult for me. The uneven slabs rise quicker than my legs can
compensate. It's like I'm walking on piano keys every day, except that they’re not black
and white. They’re grey, slabs of grey. I fear. I fear and question which one
will release and rise ahead of me to kiss my toe. Pavement kisses the face like
I heard people in Glasgow do. I’ve traded the fear of losing my teeth for the
danger of choking on false teeth. Do you still have yours, I wonder?
We’ve fallen from
a world of grass and flowerbeds into nails and hot irons. Gleefully they remake
us into this – skin trying to cover bones and losing in the process. If only.
Just give me the clarity to remove one distant memory from this past of ours. I
grow old I grow old. Groans now issue from my knees and hip – pushing past my
fake teeth like peanut butter and honey.
If I could pluck a
moment from time’s needle I would sit and try. Try to remember your face, and
the coolness of your cheek on mine. But all I do is remember what you said. You
have a yellow fleck in your eye. A flickering yellow shard sitting underneath
water – nestled in white. The softest flesh I have, still easily preserved. And
you noticed the imperfection.
Come back to me,
so I can point out yours.
