Curtain Smile

Feeling around in the dark,
Frankenstein arms outstretched
And palms pressed to the wall in
Hopes of hitting the light switch.
I ache to remember,
But not in the way you’d think.
Time polished the images,
Leaving a nacreous sheen
Around the edges; a strand of pearls
Tinged pink, all because of these
Stupid rose-colored glasses.

I ache to forget.
I miss the pull of your heart,
I miss the gravity of your
Body, coming up behind my own, and I
Miss the smile, like a
Curtain, the measured spread
Across my lips,
Steady draw of unseen hands
Slipping over tired rope.

(Not quite the jerky pullpullpull of
Hoisting a flag;
It’s more the smooth care of the
Stage hand, handling the heavy
Dust-coated velvet,
Out of use ever since the
Last play’s curtain went
Down.)