“NEVER,” SOMEONE ON TV SAYS “COMPETE AGAINST 25 YEAR OLDS”
Wanting you, anyway, there
can’t be an end of the
story since there won’t be
a story. Call it “ you know
it’s an old song” you
can’t compete with
25 year old beauties.
But he did love my poems,
read everything the first
few months. I’m your
# 1fan he whispered, his
mouth in my hair. Are
you shocked? I bought
clothes I didn’t need
for him, made hair
appointments for the day
of my class in his arms,
felt like so long I hadn’t.
When he kissed me
I dreamed it meant some
thing more, that “that was
a good class,” his “we’ll
have to go out and talk
about movies and your poems,”
meant we might. Once I
almost bought a coat
because he loved it, didn’t
then spent weeks when
it was gone, hunting it down
as I have him, elusive,
even in dreams. No,
I can’t, even with a 19 inch
wait and long good legs,
long blond hair compete
with 25 year olds. But
unlike the young girls with
beautiful skin, their elbows
if you look just beginning
to be kissed by earth
I can, as they never could,
with a few words,
make him
immortal