Two Allysons
I’ve been waiting for
this moment
for over a year.
Just once, I told myself,
it would happen.
After all the offices
and waiting rooms,
all the treatment centers
and hospital units
just once it would
happen.
It would have to happen,
right?
I would open the door and
see someone else
as young as me.
But it never did.
Not at the surgeon’s
or the oncologist
or at the hospital
or the treatment centers
no
when I sat there in that
blue
gown waiting to be burned
or when I wait in that
beige chair
each month for injections
and this went on for so
long
that I started to think
it would never change
it would always be me,
the youngest one in the
room.
Until today
a year after
when my life is now
scans and tests
to see if I’m still okay
You walked in,
dressed in the blue gown
just like me,
your mother nervous
beside you
like she was giving you
away
to a lover she wasn’t so
sure about.
We exchanged a look,
tried not to stare
because I hate when the
others stared at me,
but my dear,
I wanted to lay my head
in your lap,
I wanted to kiss your
face,
your sad scared eyes,
I wanted to tell you it
was going
to be okay
to lie to you
like they’ve lied to me.
All these months
and you were the one I
was hoping
to see
except now
I can hardly stand to
look at you
How beautiful you are.
It breaks my heart.
When the nurse comes in
and says
Allyson?
We both stood up,
stared at each other
like mirror images
like a reflection we
never wanted
and your mother said,
with a nervous laugh,
“Oh, two Allysons? How
funny?”
Like we were at the
salon,
waiting to get our nails
done.
I sat back down
as the nurse took you
away
and you glanced just once
over your shoulder.
You looked me dead in the
eye.
And then you were gone.
I want you to know,
Allyson,
that I will never forget
you,
your brown hair,
your nervous eyes,
the way you moved through
the room.
I want you to know,
there will always be a
stranger
out there in the universe
thinking of you
and wondering
and hoping
you made it out
of this nightmare alive.
Blankets
He told me his last
girlfriend
was so tiny
that she disappeared in
the blankets
and he would have to lift
them just to find her in
there
and I thought of the
Little Prince’s rose
kept under glass
something so delicate
that she needed to be
carried around.
Something that would stay
where you put it.
That would always be
there
when he lifted the sheet
waiting just for him.
What is essential is
invisible to the eye.
He was an epileptic.
If I have a seizure
he told me,
don’t put my wallet in my
mouth.
That’s a myth.
Use the socks,
he said, handing me a
pair of balled up sweat socks.
I kept them within reach
all the time
just in case.
I held them in my hand,
wondering how they would
fit inside.
How I would pry his jaw
open
and ram them in.
This seemed like an
impossible task.
But he never had one.
He told me a story about
a kitten that died,
crushed under a rocking
chair
and when he said it,
I searched his eyes to
see if he was crying
because he always talked
about how much he loved animals.
But he wasn’t.
He just said it like a
fact.
Like he had to get his
taxes done.
When we napped in his bed,
I pressed myself against
the wall
attempting to take up
less space
trying to also hide in
the blankets
to not make an indent
to be un-
physical
un-
noticeable
to disappear
until I was needed
the socks
still clutched in my
fist.
A Second, Forever
-How long is forever? Sometimes only a second.
I spotted the sunset
after we had already
bought
the wine
for the evening
and we’re headed back to
the room
our feet blistered and
sore
from walking so far
to leave a pen
at Franz Kafka’s grave
as if that meant anything
but we still did it,
the way we still cross
the street
to line up at the wrought
iron gate
of Karlov Most
to watch the sun explode
brilliantly against the
palette of clouds
colored pastel like a
Mucha
over the castle on the
hill
and I have to hang on to
the bars just
to keep myself from
spinning right off the planet
as I realize
this is it,
this is the moment I have
been waiting for all year
I didn’t know it would be
a sunset
but it is
it is the world unfolding
to me
a second, forever
and in that forever
second
the year washes over me
the forever second
that I sat crouched on
the bathroom
floor shaking with my
death,
the forever second
when I woke up during
surgery
and knew I was being disassembled
on a table
like a toy girl. A thing
no longer real.
One forever second after
another
that I lived through
bravely sometimes
but mostly terrified
and weak
faking bravery
following doctor’s orders
because I was left with
no other choice.
All those forever seconds
ticking forever
like a clock stuck
on itself
a crystal cracked
until finally they get me
here
unstuck
thrust back into the life
I wanted to live
the one I was supposed to
be living
the one I worked for
not the one that I had
been given
the fake plastic
replacement
of the life I had that I
loved dearly
and I will remain here,
here
in this forever second
watching this day end
even after I board the
bus
and then the plane and
then the subway
and find my way back to
the doctors
I will still be here
so help me god.
If I’m going to die
anyway
I’m going to die in this
second.
Ally may very well be the best goddamn poet there is.
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ReplyDeleteBrilliant, and appallingly, sadly restorative.
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