Sometimes a poem will catch you up in a phrase, a particular twist of words, and you'll borrow them going forward and make them your own. This particular poem is by an amateur poet... and while I love the entire poem (and know women of this ilk), the phrase I was captivated by, when I first read it, was.....
"smudged his vinyl"
perhaps that's what we do when we make our impression on someone's life.. we leave a smudge on their vinyl. Or, we do, if we're old enough to remember listening on vinyl. Sigh. Not sure about those under 30. Hopefully, if you read this blog, you'll grin at the idea of smudging each other's vinyl.
For the Record
She dances for him on the head of a needle,
Never minding the fact
That his record is scratched,
So from time to time, she skips
From his verse of "I love you"
To his chorus of apologies,
Because in her ears, it's all music.
As the record spins, she searches for proof
That she has made an impression,
A sign that she has altered his flow,
But no fingerprint of her own has smudged his vinyl;
He bears no evidence of her existence.
So she listens more closely and hopes to hear
A hint of herself mixed into his melodies,
But the speakers sing only the songs he desires,
And she plans her steps by his cadence,
Manipulates herself into his grooves,
Seeks her heart within his beat,
Never realizing that she could turn tables.
~Calandra R. Butler
***National Poetry Month***