The Wait

(slight edit)


When Tom finally meets Meg
in the Empire State building,
I think of when you said,
we're magic, babe.
While Billy Bob spoons
ice cream to Hallie's mouth,
our old churn comes
to mind, used now
as a playground for spiders.

Movies always reel you back to me,
piece by piece.

You are the squeak in the leaf
I roll between my fingers each Spring,
the halo of light lingering when
I switch off my lamp, come midnight.
You are the sweat in my gown
and the silence between raindrops
on that beach where you stripped
off my suit and once took me, hard.

Any day now, you will surely
knock at my door and,
kissing my cupped hand,
say, she didn't matter, love;
she never mattered at all.


original


When Tom Hanks finds Meg Ryan
in the Empire State building,
I remember when you said,
we make our own magic, babe.
When Billy Bob Thornton feeds
ice cream to Hallie Berrie,
I think of our old churn
in the cellar, used now
as a playground for spiders.

The movies reel you back to me,
piece by piece. One day,
you will follow, I tell myself.

You are the squeak in the leaf
I roll between my fingers each Spring,
the halo of light lingering when
I switch off my lamp, come midnight.
You are the sweat in my gown
and the silence between raindrops
on that beach where you stripped
off my suit and once took me, hard.

One day you will surely
knock at my door and,
kissing my cupped hand,
tell me, she didn't matter.
She never mattered at all.


Pris Campbell
(c)2005