My New Life by Molly Tenenbaum

I've been in you
awhile now so
maybe you're not new

or new as each moment
ho hum ta-da
is always new

I've tumbled in storms
of impending you
flamed in flushes

afraid of you all
of a sudden nostalgic for you
the squirrel-tree window

where first I knew you
no cell the same
as any seven years ago

so maybe I never
completely
became you

though I did
feel all new
about two years ago

in the green dress with white dots






.

Something is hooked in my heart.
Is it the turkey buzzard from the mailbox last Tuesday.
A monogrammed bathrobe.
Is it a fishing lure.
Or perhaps it is the beer you are brewing in the kitchen.



On December fifth you ran into the bedroom.
I was sure you had hidden my Christmas present somewhere.
Somewhere.
Perhaps the closet so I was throwing clothes.
Like tornadoes.

I felt like Van Gogh.
How it feels to be missing a part of yourself.
But of which you willingly gave.

I felt like it had to be somewhere.
That gift.
Somewhere.

Finally you told me it was in the gun case.
I thought you were joking.
Surely joking. So I continued searching.

Finally I realized it was true.
Real and right.
And true so I ran around with the gun case.

I unlocked it with the keys you gave me the keys.
Not thinking.
I guess.
Not thinking I would decipher the three digit code to pop it open.

Even the flames of houses are not higher than the way your head
hit the ceiling fan in your friend's place
the other night. I thought that was wonderful. And also
the way you were leaning over the kitchen island
and your shoulders looked so wide like you could take on
anything.

Well, I deciphered the code.
Mistakenly.
And we wrestled for the case.
Until I demanded you put whatever you had inside.
In my hand.

I thought:
maybe some earrings.
A necklace.
You could even fit a new purse.
If you stuffed it just right.

I opened my eyes and I told you that you were joking I knew you were joking and that was not a very funny joke. And you said you were not kidding around at all so I demanded documentation and there were all these fancy papers and I am very sorry I scratched your face with it when I went to hug you so hard I almost pushed you onto the floor but I knew there was something good somewhere my gift I just wanted my Christmas gift I did not think it would be this thing this

Venetian blinds we close when we lay naked.
This touching your hair like delicate hibiscus.
This headless chicken.
This way you held me.
This runaway taxi.
This way my mouth ran out of loud and instead had just
quiet.


I keep looking at it wondering where it came from, why does it give me songs of ideas, why I, out of anyone in the world, get this thing this beautiful thing, waking up with your long legs draped over me.




.

I still don't really know what to say. You looked at me with those big brown eyes and what could I say really. What else is there to say at this point but wait until the night time and whisper to each other what our favorite things are.

And you said

your eyelashes



.



I'm engaged to the most wonderful man in the universe.