Poem For Nina Poem by Margy Crumb

poem for nina

i.
i am driving in the rain.
my window is down and the water is hitting my clean hair and cigarette,
so at a stoplight i grab a hat from my backpack.
i pull it down low over my browline
and i think, instinctively, that i must
look just like you.

every time i crack my neck so many times i give myself a headache
i think of you.
nina--
when i think of you i mostly remember all the pain in your voice--
i remember the haughty anger,
sarcasm--
joyful all the times we spoke after what we had was over and the you i knew was already dead.
i was happy for you.
i wish i knew where you went after that,
but i think i know where you are now.

ii.
i still have so many questions i never got to ask!
what happened to your saturn?
and did you know that even though i know you're dead
i still clinch my steering wheel every time i pass one like yours on the road?
who knew how many ghosts you would end up leaving?
it's me: i should have known.

the last time i saw you was 2 years ago now
at the corner store by uno
on elysian fields next to the burger king.
it was a hot night. the sky was dark purple.
noah and i walked in and we both saw you there at the counter
(probably) buying cheap joes.
noah told me,
much later,
that he approached you outside as we were leaving to timidly say hello to you.
he was braver than me for that. i was terrified.
i had tunnel vision from the fear over what you might have said or done if you had noticed me,
and so i didn't see him stepping closer to you.
now i rack my brain to imagine, realistically--
what would you have said or done?
probably nothing. i don't know.
i'm sure you noticed me.
we were strangers by then.
what an indescribable feeling--
i wish i could feel it again.

maybe one day we will be reunited somewhere.
even if we met in heaven
or hell or wherever you are, or wherever we might end up
i would still well up with panic if
i saw your face again--
even in god's corner store--
but to smoke another (tense, silent) cigarette with you would be worth it, i think.

iii.
i have stopped having dreams about you every night ever since you died.
i hope my heart's hunch is right;
that this is proof that you forgave me.
i'm not sure what else to say.
i am sorry. and i miss you. and i'm sorry i miss you.
and i'm sorry i missed your call. and i'm sorry you missed me.

if i had stepped to you on that night like noah did,
i guess i would have had even less to say.
i hope you feel as free now
as i do.

shapeshifter,
take care.