The Walls Were Bracing Silently The Ceiling

08Mar07

We thought most of the day about the color
thinking a green could make the ceiling
float up through the attic         past
the birds making nests in the walls
past the things that were broken
but carefully boxed up and taped.

In indecision you bought masking tape
and tarps for the floor         decided the color
would come easily but later: a breaking
of ice cubes from the tray. The ceiling
at some point would seem different than the walls
in an important way:         the past

forming an edge with what could be         or the past
being indelible like a scar         like the tape
of his voice on the machine. The walls
for sure would not take any color
so we dressed the room for the ceiling
put records and plants in the study         broke

down the futon and moved his volkswagen windshield from breakage.
Carrying the last of it all I moved past
you standing in the doorway looking to the ceiling
saying we need to do the edge with tape
sure I said but what about the color?
And I must have said something wrong because your eyes began to well

your fingers reached to touch the wall
and in your face anxiety was breaking
into hues of impossible colors
like the faded chipping of the house’s past.
I was so naïve in putting down the tape
and saying we don’t have to paint the ceiling

as if that were the real issue all along:         the ceiling
which seemed more near now than the walls.
You said no we should put up the tape
and work from there         sometimes I feel like breaking
in this place that is not enough mine in the midst of his past
and the pasts that I have lived         the color

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