Dawn Dupler's works have appeared in: Loch Raven Review, The Writeside Up Magazine, Static Movement, Diddledog, The Flask Review, Glassfire’s Print Anthology, Long Story Short, T-Zero, The Aggregated Press. She currently studies classical music, voice, and photography while enjoying other forms of expression.
Spring 2009
Table of Contents - Vol. V, No. 1
Poetry Interview Translations Fiction Book Reviews
Dawn Dupler
Something I Would Have Remembered Saying
I did not say to him, “I love you.”
I may have mentioned how nicely
His suit matched his tie,
Or how brushing against his tight pecs
Submerged my senses. But, “I love you?”
That I would have remembered
Like the soldier who first made me surrender,
An olive-skinned, dark-maned lover
Whose solid hands turned my bed into a bema.
Perhaps I have been want for intimacy,
Something soft and whispery
Capable of consuming blue flames.
But I no longer attend those quick-fuck carnivals
Whose all-hard, all-the-time, lotharios
Require no ticket, no green, for admittance.
They say, “I love you” while opening a can of beer.
And happily do so again following a zephyr,
Something I could create by opening a window.
By metaphor did I say what he heard?
A touch to his shoulder? A sigh too strong?
Roiled with emotion I could have uttered a confession.
But not that. I lie with the sun in my eyes.
Into the penumbra a gray circling hawk laughs.
How I would have remembered telling him, “I love you.”
© Dawn Dupler
