Terzanelle in Blonde
Some things can be changed. Not yesterday
And not your leaving me. I’ll dye my hair.
This blonde is too much yours for me today:
Too long and sentimental, unaware.
The insistent “if” of blonde, and “then,”
And not “you’re leaving me.” I’ll dye my hair,
Until it’s black as yours, and then again.
I’ll dye until it’s red or grey, to drown
The insistent “if” of blonde, and then
Your words becoming tied to hers, the sound
Of lovers’ voices. Should be mine with yours.
I’ll dye until it’s red or grey, to drown
The echo of your whispers on my shoulders,
Saturate the swish of my own heart,
Of lovers’ voices. Should be mine with yours
Tangled up for days, not torn apart.
Some things can be changed. Not yesterday,
Not your leaving, not the hardest part.
This blonde is too much yours for me today.
First published in Quarterly West, #45 Autumn/Winter 1997-98