The streets of New Orleans taste familiar
It's the air, I think
As I walk
A Garden District trellis
Points me to the cemetery
The stones,
Sad...
Old.
In the very back
Shaded by magnolia trees
Is my grave
The name and date are worn away
It's been 300 years after all
Which made me wonder if I was now the ghost
Haunting, taunting those around me
The ones who lay still and quiet
Whilst I continue to wander the world
"The more things change,
The more they stay the same."
I can hear her voice
Like an echo
From what was the front parlour
Her silk dress gathered at the waist
Bosoms heaving as she struggled to breathe
Beneath the squeeze of her corset
She does needlework by the light of the window
Maybe she was my mother
I'm not sure anymore
Memory fades between lives
With one exception:
You.
In every lifetime, I see your face
Not unlike mine
Variations of the same green eyes
And salty dark hair
In this lifetime
A boy named Artem woke me
He looks like you
The moment I saw him, I knew
That was the same moment I started looking all over again
For you
We were in the desert once, too
Baudrillard, sitting on a high stool, twists his mouth at me
Raises an eyebrow
And nods
But Hannah Arendt leans against the French doors
Rolling her eyes in disdain
She's still smoking the same cigarette
"I wait for him...just like you."
She turns her head slowly to face the darkness
While I turn mine to study the keyboard
Tap-tap-tapping away
Artemis is represented by a bear...did you know?
So was Arthur
I studied him for so long
Now I can see that it was really you
My Once-and-Future King
Your embrace makes me a time traveler
I want to take you to New Orleans
So we can discover each other all over again, and again...and again
Though my beloved Sucre on Magazine has gone
And the most perfect Gianduja gelato with it
The old keys are still in the cemented sidewalk
Across from a building
Where you once opened the door for me
You smiled
I blushed
Gray silk top hat tilted in your hand
Coat and tails with a cream ascot
We'd both crossed the sea
I spoke French (and still do...)
When we touch today
It's as if I'm remembering your body
Not meeting it for the first time
Images from the past manifest quickly:
The Sun streaming through the window in a hot attic
You bending over, handing me a porcelain doll
Or perhaps, picking it up
Her blanched face scarred by a chip in her cheek
Then, the scene shifts
I'm in white as we stroll through the fallen magnolia leaves
An umbrella in my hand
A bonnet on my head
To shield me from the Sun
And, the intensity of your gaze
It still feels just as intense, you know
To see you look at me
My soul wants me to go back
To New Orleans...with you
I was there for her 300th anniversary
It was Christmas
Reveillon dinners that I could have cooked better myself
Walking the same streets I once walked with you
Turning a corner, hoping to see you there
Even though we had yet to meet
So I sat in the little cafe across the street
My glance, continuously drawn to the red building where, once-upon-a-time, you held the door open
Before holding me....
It's now a store that sells cigars,
And though I don't exactly know why
A tear begins to cascade from my eye
I've missed you for a very, very long time.
#ThePoem
*Photo copyright Rebecca Housel 2019
It's the air, I think
As I walk
A Garden District trellis
Points me to the cemetery
The stones,
Sad...
Old.
In the very back
Shaded by magnolia trees
Is my grave
The name and date are worn away
It's been 300 years after all
Which made me wonder if I was now the ghost
Haunting, taunting those around me
The ones who lay still and quiet
Whilst I continue to wander the world
"The more things change,
The more they stay the same."
I can hear her voice
Like an echo
From what was the front parlour
Her silk dress gathered at the waist
Bosoms heaving as she struggled to breathe
Beneath the squeeze of her corset
She does needlework by the light of the window
Maybe she was my mother
I'm not sure anymore
Memory fades between lives
With one exception:
You.
In every lifetime, I see your face
Not unlike mine
Variations of the same green eyes
And salty dark hair
In this lifetime
A boy named Artem woke me
He looks like you
The moment I saw him, I knew
That was the same moment I started looking all over again
For you
We were in the desert once, too
Baudrillard, sitting on a high stool, twists his mouth at me
Raises an eyebrow
And nods
But Hannah Arendt leans against the French doors
Rolling her eyes in disdain
She's still smoking the same cigarette
"I wait for him...just like you."
She turns her head slowly to face the darkness
While I turn mine to study the keyboard
Tap-tap-tapping away
Artemis is represented by a bear...did you know?
So was Arthur
I studied him for so long
Now I can see that it was really you
My Once-and-Future King
Your embrace makes me a time traveler
I want to take you to New Orleans
So we can discover each other all over again, and again...and again
Though my beloved Sucre on Magazine has gone
And the most perfect Gianduja gelato with it
The old keys are still in the cemented sidewalk
Across from a building
Where you once opened the door for me
You smiled
I blushed
Gray silk top hat tilted in your hand
Coat and tails with a cream ascot
We'd both crossed the sea
I spoke French (and still do...)
When we touch today
It's as if I'm remembering your body
Not meeting it for the first time
Images from the past manifest quickly:
The Sun streaming through the window in a hot attic
You bending over, handing me a porcelain doll
Or perhaps, picking it up
Her blanched face scarred by a chip in her cheek
Then, the scene shifts
I'm in white as we stroll through the fallen magnolia leaves
An umbrella in my hand
A bonnet on my head
To shield me from the Sun
And, the intensity of your gaze
It still feels just as intense, you know
To see you look at me
My soul wants me to go back
To New Orleans...with you
I was there for her 300th anniversary
It was Christmas
Reveillon dinners that I could have cooked better myself
Walking the same streets I once walked with you
Turning a corner, hoping to see you there
Even though we had yet to meet
So I sat in the little cafe across the street
My glance, continuously drawn to the red building where, once-upon-a-time, you held the door open
Before holding me....
It's now a store that sells cigars,
And though I don't exactly know why
A tear begins to cascade from my eye
I've missed you for a very, very long time.
#ThePoem
*Photo copyright Rebecca Housel 2019
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