You are going to come into my venerable life
And tell me that you love me.
You won’t care what I’ve built.
You will say, "Sandra, your shadow
is shaped like a daschund."
You will pretend that the center of my body
Is an empty gymnasium
Like this is middle school
And you were the last one picked
To play on the team
Because you were not
Very strong and wore glasses.
When I think about the past, the only
Thing I remember
Is the history of my body and even that’s
(For example, I remember that I was always happiest
Plump and alone.)
But this is what people do—they walk into you—
Just as they walk into you on the street
Because they are looking
At someone else
And sure, they’ll tell you they’re sorry,
But that’s the extent of it.
I think that all of my poems are going
To tell the future
Of all of your poems
that future with an emptiness
That it keeps reversing
like pure data
And that is why we
Will remain enemies forever.