cutting it . . .

seagulls fly past my window
its not quite raining
but there is the smell of water in the air
the tour montparnasse ascends into cloud cover

tomorrow is my last day here in paris
one last day
to visit old haunts
one last day
to revise memories
left untouched
unedited

i dont want to go home
this is not to say that i dont want to leave
only
that enough time has past
and not enough
for me to be ready to return to life
id rather stay in this limbo

i see photos of this past weekend
see faces smiling
at moments i missed
people i dont know
slide into the range of the camera
there will be moments
referred back upon
that i will never understand

i feel left behind
detached and discarded
on nights like these
better by far to stay away
to not rejoin the crowd
than to have to hear what i had missed
to see those glances
pass me by

if i stayed here in this city
an au paire to my cousin
a confidant and friend
i know i would fast find
those to fill the gaps
that i tear open
a rough fit it would be for sure
patchwork and darning
but it would hold

going home
i fear
that everything will slowly fray

straighten up and fly right

its been ten years
since i was here in paris
i walked these streets
when i was still a teenager
now im brushing shoulders with my 30s

my favorite cafe is gone
the man in the crepe box
no longer has a spot on the square
where i went late each night
he will mock me for my misguided french no more

coming back to somewhere i actually once lived
hits me harder than id thought
looking out my window
in a holiday inn
but up under the garrets
with tiled roofs spread out chimneyed and ill lit
i can see the tour montparnasse
remember the floor i worked on
that was so hot on the weekends
that brutal summer

it all comes back
my lover id brought with me
our piles of wine bottles
wending up the stairs
late night on the rooftop
playing gin and singing
while we watched the lightshow from the tour eifel

it wasnt so bad
ten years has washed away
the salt of all those tears i cried
in the office bathroom
ive forgotten the feeling of sweating on the subway
ive forgotten trying to squeeze into french cut pants
ive forgotten that it was then i realized i wasnt ready
to be with someone forever

now my cousin
who i remember as a baby
lives here
married
with a child of her own
baby lily chortles as i hold her
i chew bits of chicken and feed them to her
let her pinch my nose
with strong fingers
and sharp nails
her eyes are dark blue
and she looks nothing like me

i am jealous of my cousins family
of the joy on her face as her daughter clings to her
but she is alone her
with her child
a lone lily is all that she has
she is talking of a second child
sensible
to have the two close in age
sensible
to not wait too long

but she is so alone

i miss my home
in chicago
i should be more careful
to shield myself
from what im missing
friendships that deepen in my absence
my slow but steady
replacement and exclusion
from memories of this summer
i have to be grateful though
i have held my cousins daughter
felt her laugh
so long as i keep missing out on chicago
so long as i keep traveling
i will get to watch this child grow
see her mother, still a child in my eyes
grow strong alongside her