December 09, 2005 - 1:01 a.m.
nostalgia
all it takes sometimes is a movement
small or sweeping
an unexpected cliche at the most opportune moment
she says good bye and holds out her hand
as if she will shake it
instead she takes my hand to her lips, kissing the skin above my knuckles,
like some movie I've seen before I'm sure
and I feel like I'm in it
the girl in the movies
an audrey or helen
similarly moved by gestus and insinuations of formality
deference to custom, twisted in the most unlikely action of performance.
the meal, consumed and played out
with requisite opportunities to lay down careful questions and answers
I know i've seen you before. i've read about you. i've read your words
and still, you think you're the one winning.
we've been closer to truth than this.
i have your number
the one you don't remember writing down
on the inside of your skin
so long ago.
