The Dress | David Groulx

I pick up a dress you’ve left on the bedroom closet floor
like an old love you’ve left behind
for a new one
A dress that didn’t make you look fat
You were fat!
I always thought so
but never said so
like good husbands do
with the hopes of getting laid
even if it was terrible sex
mechanical
predictable
safe

I remember when you bought this dress
brand new
fresh
I waited hours
in the bar
patient
I remember I loved how it looked
on the floor
beside our bed

Now it’s just an old dress
I think I’ll  cut it into
rags to clean up the mess
you’ve left behind
even if you have
just forgotten it

David Groulx was raised in the Northern Ontario mining community of Elliot Lake. He is proud of his Aboriginal roots – his mother is Ojibwe Indian and his father French Canadian.David’s poetry has appeared in a 140 publications in England, Australia, Germany, Austria, Turkey, India, New Zealand, Scotland, Venezuela, Sweden, Romania and the USA. He lives in Ottawa, Canada.