Lorie Allred
In This Version
Sometimes you have to start over
from scratch. So in this version, you wanted me
to go away with you, or better yet,
you never left. But if you did leave, you wrote
more than just one letter. Or if
it was only one, it was longer,
and didn't apologize, unless it was
for being too weak
to give me up.
In this version, I didn't walk two miles
through snow to find you
because that was the only way.
It was the Fourth of July, not Christmas.
We weren't cold. I didn't hurt
anyone. I didn't watch the man
I said I loved just slightly
lift his glasses to wipe his eyes, then hear him say
I'll take you back, just get him out
of your system. Or if it had to happen
this way, I did, at least, accomplish
what he asked.
But let's tell the truth for once.
It would be too perfect otherwise.
Let's keep the sting and loss
forever, like the last line of a poem
that makes you close your eyes to say
yes, this is exactly how it feels.
| Lorie Allred earned an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Alaska
Fairbanks. Her poetry has appeared in such journals as The New York
Quarterly, The Sun, and The Evening Street Review, and is forthcoming in The
Cartier Street Review. She currently works as a librarian in North
Carolina, and just completed her first novel for young adults. |
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