Promises

We are lying here together

Like time knitting a sweater—

A transparent overcoat, threadbare

And comfortable like 7-yr old pj’s.

You turn to me and smile,

Making some raw, rare noise that

Erupts in me a snide remark;

Your chatter becomes loose and

Familiar, knitted and bound

To our vessels.

Explosive laughter becomes the

Night’s familiar,

Teeth bare and skinless.

We don’t pretend here—

Only become the silences and the gap

Of the others’ limitations.

We just are and have only to be

Ourselves

And each other.

Merrily you turn to my still body,

Eyes sparkling in a way that only you can

Decode or wield,

Saying softly now,

Very softly—

“You’re so beautiful…”

Like the words are as new to you as the image—

Saying it in a tone I nearly find

Convincing—not because

You are false, but that I

Am the Vesuvius of doubt and self-loathing,

The mirror always altered, the

Painting always smudged.

Still—

The excessive curves of my colorless body

Excites you, becoming all you’ve treasured

No matter how I shudder at

Identical sight:

And as we erode, I

Wonder of nightfall promises,

The continuances of such words, actions,

And pledges by the moonside.

As the sweater removes itself,

Unwrapping its coils like a charmed boa,

We no longer care.

Copyright © 2007 by Melanie Faith