M.

A couple of months ago, while trying to write a poem for a university class and failing over and over, I remembered the lyrics of Big Thief’s song “Mary.” Deliciously nostalgic and harrowingly sweet, it captures the ache of missing a place you can never return to.

“Will you love me like you loved me, and I’ll never ask for more?”

Adrianne Lenker wrote this about her grandparents’ house, but it made me think of all the reasons we beg time to rewind: childhood friends, homes that once held us, departed relatives, old lovers.

Around the same time, one of my best friends was grieving a breakup, and she’d obsess over the tiniest things she missed about her ex-partner. Inspired by Lenker and her, I wanted to pay attention to those details that linger, both softly and forcefully, once someone or something becomes a memory.

This poem came from that: reconstructing past lovers, imagining others, looping Big Thief, and trying to make my friend feel less alone.

I hope you enjoy it.

M.

Will you rest your right hand on the indent of my hip,
ask about my favourite childhood memory?
Joke about my spoiled upbringing,
beg me to be stricter with our kids.

Will you read the letters someone else wrote me,
laugh about their sweet naivety?
Tell me you understand their devotion,
fix their spelling mistakes.

Will you hold me with your tired arms,
rest the tip of your nose on the top of my forehead?
Recognize the smell of your lavender shampoo in my hair,
search for the traces of my own scent.

Will you take my earrings off when I fall drunkenly asleep,
leave them on the small ceramic tray you gave me?
Kiss my cheek while I pretend to not wake up,
honour our unspoken sacred traditions.

Will you trace my collarbone with your index finger,
circle my shoulder on your way back to my neck?
Laugh at the shyness we both feel,
marvel at how comfortable we are with embarrassment.

Will you let me brush your eyebrows with my thumbs?
Will you let me rest my head on your concave abdomen?
Will you love me like you loved me?
And I’ll never ask for more.