The Loneliest Place in the World is in a Crowded Room With You

by Allie Marini

1.
your voice is bigger
and broader than the sharp swath
it cuts between us

 

2.
your hands paint pictures
I have seen a million times
with brighter colors

 

3.
my voice is so small
it falls fast into the cracks
and makes no sound

 

4.
my hands hold brushes
and a palette I will clean
later, tidying

 

5.
they laugh because you
are charming and witty and
have the best stories

 

6.
I tend to their drinks
and they always eat all of
my artichoke dip

 

7.
“Tell us another,”
“Oh, I don’t want to bore you,”
But you always do.

 

8.
everyone has been
feeding the dog because you
said it was okay

 

9.
there is no tonic
in my highball of vodka
just a lot of lime

 

10.
they smoke in our house
though I did ask them not to.
You said it was fine.

 

11.
This story. Again.
I could tell it better, but
no one would listen.

 

12.
You said to wear black
and a French Twist so I would
look mysterious

 

13.
there are ashes and
cigarette butts stubbed out in
my dishes and plants

 

14.
That story. Again.
Telling it louder does not
make it funnier.

 

15.
The dog has been sick
because too many people
have fed him cheese cubes

 

16.
The artichoke dip
is almost gone and that means
that they will leave soon.

 

17.
I load the dishes
we never have plastic, you
say it looks tacky

 

18.
they always thank me
on the way out, even though
I was barely there

 

19.
You chat them all up
on their way out the door, still
the host to the end

 

20.
The house smells of smoke
and spilled drinks, your loud stories
and my lonely heart

*     *     *

This poem was originally published in Before Fire: Divorce Poems, published by ELJ Publications, 2015.

Allie Marini is a southern transplant living in California. She can explain deconstructionism, but cannot perform simple math.