Two Nights

Have you ever accidentally gone on a date? I don't recommend it, particularly not when you are new to a city, and therefore must rely on your accidental date's knowledge to prevent getting lost, even though they are making you increasingly uncomfortable. True story. We went to a show on Broadway, and I paid for my ticket which caused him to insist on buying me cake and a cab ride home. What an awkwardly silent cab ride it was. Eventually, I started composing poetry because the cab driver's French phone call was getting too fast for me to understand.

i.
Sometimes-
in the corner of my eyes-
I think you are
Someone else.
Those particular glasses,
The way your voice
pitches when impassioned-
a subtle perfume
of clumsiness and pretension.

ii.
Last night-
it was almost this morning-
I was huddled in a blanket
and he was giggling madly.
Beside me.
I wanted him
(both to stop and to hold)
but I could not reach out.
I would not speak.
Even in sleep
I am afraid.

iii.
Now-
that I am sitting across from you-
I see you have
that same 5 o'clock shadow
speckled by acne,
broken by a sneer.
Your hands are the same shape,
nails trimmed identically.
I am not speaking;
on the inside
I am determined not to give you
a reason to comfort me.
I do not want to feel your hands.

iv.
Later-
crawling from a bumbling taxi-
I understand.
You have two eyes
that can't see everything;
a voice
that knows its birdsong;
an air
that colors your actions;
a cleft chin
that spouts oil and hair;
and ten fingers
that grow strong from listing facts.
You are human.
He is human.
I am lonely.
It is all the same.