Watching You Dress

Watching you Dress (Published in Revival Issue 15, 2010)


Summer is over,

But the glassy glow of late-afternoon sun

Speaks of the south

As I lie on the bed

Watching you dress.

I am tired but my eyes are wide open,

Woken to a moment thought lost:

A basement room in Tyndale Terrace,

A sallow girl getting dressed

For a Cuban night on the tiles.

Downstairs the children’s voices

Call a name I hardly recognize.

You stand in a daze by the mirror

And twenty years have passed

Without our knowing.

I rise to go to them,

Press past your naked body

In the narrow room.

I stop and fold my arms around you,

And feel a boyish yearning

To resume the habanera

Started all those years ago,

But you don’t.

You have to be somewhere.

Already I hear steps upon the stairs.


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