Marvin Gardens, Circa 1985

You saw right through me,
and it would have been different,
if I felt I deserved the label,
if I knew myself to be vapid,

And there was a house that was supposed to be ours,

whitewashed wood,

black shutters,

a wraparound porch that promised to be the site of all of our reconciliations,

if you'd hold onto me long enough to consider letting me go,

For being so dense,

you were empty inside,

not enough room for the rest of us,

least of all,

me,

And I wished we could go back to that Tuesday,

so I could show you how I was better than all of that,

and how I didn't need your help with any of this,

and how I sat in the slumber room with the lamp on,

waiting for you,

but wishing you would not come home,

I wanted reasons,

and you gave them to me,

without effort,

even,

this was nothing more than a corpse,

a body of poorly constructed evidence,

an antidote to my ailing conscience,

and yours,

and all along,

we could have picked up the orange card,

we could have,

even,

and especially on that porch