Monday, March 07, 2022

this thing on my finger

      The spinning diva offers: "if you like it then you should have put a ring on it..."
or else what, I remember thinking--we should date someone else
     or once there's a ring on it we'll belong to them?

I mean, I really didn't get it. After all, I didn't even get a proposal from you
I don't recall ever talking about marriage we just seemed 
to think we'd be together: Typical Pisces-Scorpio 

with trouble distinguishing where our bodies and destinies separated.
But we did say we didn't want diamonds mined from sorrow 
so in other historical ruin, we turned to my grandmother's

wedding necklace that had been broken down into tiny necklaces 
for her four daughters and then into earrings for many granddaughters
--the honor of this landscape retreats, struggles, is small

I haven't even worn that ring in years... it gets in my way.
Here--now: we're making dinner, my fingers slicing things and then 
slipping, and the blood and the nick on my hand lose a battle

pain knots into a big bow of something sure to heal by tomorrow
it calls for the return of care, reduces your grand calling as a doctor:
to a childish charge... the blunt and careful binding of bandaids. 

Then you're gone for two days but I wear this "disgusting" (our 14-year-old) 
bandaid you wrapped around my finger, extending this trivial thing, wondering 
about separation and affection had you only... put a ring on it.

_____________________
I mean, I did say I was going to write teenage poetry when Big A is away at work (second para). Clearly, it wasn't an empty threat.

3 comments:

Gillian said...

That's disgusting but also sweet. LOL

StephLove said...

Lovely

maya said...

Thank you, Gillian! Thank you, StephLove!

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