Polaroids
We stare down at the polaroids,
The phantoms of Her youth
Scattered over a pale tablecloth
She glides a weary finger along every photo,
Tracing each face while consumed with hesitation
She’s asked to describe who she sees,
In these polaroids of parties and picnics,
Of family and friends
She blanks
Last week you remembered
Or two weeks ago
Or was it a month ago?
I study Her distraught face
I search the abyss that is Her gaze;
Her eyes dark and dense, flooded with intense silence
I fight to drag Her to the surface
Of those shadowy waters
Where memories are drowned
And Her soul suffocates
I’m pleading that she won’t give up,
That she’ll resurface
From the murky sea of Her mind
She shifts Her gaze across the polaroids:
In one frame of tinted ink,
I was a child sitting in Her lap,
And on my head, she planted a frozen kiss
She traces my polaroid image
While I search the grim depths of Her eyes
And see there’s no flare; I know, as I tremble there,
That the ink has not forgotten—
She has
I clutch Her hand
Trusting Her memory seems like wishing
On a star burning to dust
I want to whisper:
“You’re looking at me, don’t you recognize me anymore?”
She slams Her fists on the squares of white photographs
But Her lips won’t form the words
Her breath won’t draw my name
Now, it’s midnight;
I stare upon the polaroids again
That lay scattered on my bed, aglow
Under my table lamp
Outside my window, rain falls from an obsidian sky
At least I’m hidden
At least,
In the beautiful darkness and thundering rain,
She won’t hear or see me cry
Hidden, she doesn’t know
She’s become synonymous with pity
I grasp the white polaroids,
The phantoms of Her youth
I trace their acrylic borders
And I step into their pasts, trying to find Her
Trying to get Her back
Over those still-frames, I weep
Why Her—why anyone?
Her cherished memories are now fleeting
Like the midnight behind my window
My heart’s longing endlessly, while
The relentless rain pours down
I’m losing her;
Even the rain can’t recall her name,
The drops of memory sliding down the glass
And like tears streaking my window,
My tears stain the polaroids.
