bembo – an imagined poetic conversation between renee & becca good

bembo

(an imagined poetic conversation between two goods) by Constance Kuntz

at the end of your life

amidst piercing screams

and screeching whistles

your soul whispers to mine

read to me

you ask me to read aloud

from our favorite book

on earth we’re briefly gorgeous

now? i ask

now, you whisper

time freezes –

it is still

in the snow

that coats our streets

and lines our trees

the screams, the whistles, the honks –

briefly silenced

by the ice, by ice

that noise – you say – belongs to someone else – not us

we take turns

reading to each other

until you say –

softly –

just you now; just you

when i get to the end

you smile –

keep reading

even the part ‘about the type’

the type, you say, is the best part

bembo i say –

it’s bembo

***

big boy shoots

horns honk

people swear

whistles blow

you smile

bembo?

suddenly and somehow

we are both laughing

i breathe in your soul

as you whisper mischief

about your favorite font

***

i swear everything

was your favorite

you found

the good in everything,

every one,

even me,

the moon to your sun

and i swear

they find the bad

in everything

every one

even us

even the moon and the sun

they pierced your perfect body

with bullets

they tried to

stain your luminosity

with your own blood

but your brightness

holds me

for a few shining seconds –

i’m more in love

with you than ever

i try to trick myself

into believing you’re back –

that we have more time –

but you whisper good bye

i say no! it’s just good night!

you rest your head on the pillow

the one with your favorite pillowcase

the one with roses on it

your dumb dog snuggles between us

safe and happy

***

but the blaring whistles wake me up

and i remember

it isn’t a pillow

it’s an airbag

and those aren’t roses

that’s your blood

and the dog isn’t snuggling

he’s nosing your body –

trying to wake you up

while a man shouts fucking bitch

while you whisper keep reading

bembo, i say, is a serif typeface,

named after the poet pietro bembo

bembo …

a whisper

a gasp

a breath

a tiny laugh

i ask what could possibly be so funny?

you smile and say nothing

and disappear

good bye