Album

there were so many
photos of women
among the pictures of your
            fraternity brothers
            friends from high school
            family
among the pictures of
            trips taken
            things seen
among the pictures
            in your album

so many
most of them blonde
all of them pretty
a surprising number of them
            taller than you

among the pictures of
each of those women
(blonder than I, and taller)
there was at least one
with the look
the trace of fear around the eyes
and the trying-too-hard-to-please tightness
            around the mouth
            framing an anxious smile
            on an over-eager face

what is it about you
            about men
            (or is it about women)
that makes it so important
            that we please
            that you approve
            that we belong
that makes us want
            to heal the hurt
            to make the difference
            to be the one
that draws us in
            like voyeurs to the accident

I knew it was over between us
the day you took my picture
at the Fourth of July party
in the back yard of your friend’s house
the picture that is still on the roll of film
wound tight like the terror in me
waiting to be exposed to the light of day

I was holding your drink
you were holding my heart
and I could taste the look
            on the back of my teeth