Teacher asks, What is your favorite physical feature of your spouse?
My turn as I smile and say,
Legs. Trust me, his legs.
Begs and pleads and he slowly gives and lifts cuffed pants to reveal to hollers and whistles; someone even passes him a dollar. Laughs and legs.
Robin laughs loudly, whistles. Her feet marching in place at her chair as she doubles over -same as she always laughed. How she laughs beautifully. How I remember. She's gone now. Too soon, too young.
How long does death hurt?
As long as memory.
Saturday I lean against rough wood and watch glass burn and expert hands turn and mold and beauty form. Looking away I see him walking to me. Legs. I begin to feel . . .
Then I see his face. Grinning and swollen vein. He's done it.
Two maybes. He's done it or I will soon hear some knowledge great to him about this piece of glass beauty he is gently cradling.
No, he's done it.
Happy Birthday, he says.
I look at the colors, the transparancy of glass and love.
I gently argue about the money as I touch it and I'm thinking once again - How far can a woman fall?
Trust me Rie, it's okay. I'm going to get it wrapped up.
He walks away and I lean and watch him transparent. Pursing my lips and blinking my eyes to stop what is threatening to fall. I blink harder.
He walks back, sees me trying hard and takes my lean. Taking my place he slips his arms around my waist and whispers, Trust me. I lean.
He kisses my neck and my gratitude list continues . . .
hair in a ponytail
feel of lips on skin
chips of broken color
My list, #'s 337-361.