FREE VERSE Poem: Reincarnation, by Claire Warner

When I knew you last,
we were Japanese
and I loved you.
I saw your face for the first time
on our wedding day.

In this life, it is cold and damp and April.
I am transported back in time
through a portal as ordinary as a red Mazda
to when your arms were new to me
(they’re still new to me)
and your kisses hypnotized me
(they still hypnotize me).

One day in the back of a library,
you leaned over me,
plucked a strand from my life,
replaced it changed.

You read to me from your last book of poems
called my town “Pleasantville”.
Was it a curse or an incantation?
Ever since this place has been black and white.
I have been wandering the streets
trying to find something bright,
a poppy, a playground ball, a traffic light.
I get distracted by the sound
of something clanging in an alleyway,
by crumpled newspaper skittering
past on a dry wind, making a sound
something like wheezing.

I would give you my breath
but I keep getting lost trying to find you.