Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Your Bathroom Counter

Layers of congealed tooth paste, hair gel, spilled drops of liquid soap,
and itch ointment.--
All covered with a fine layer of shed dog hair; this gunk coats the surfaces in your bathroom.

Dog hair lines your mattress, your sheets, your pillows--I find small amounts of it in my bra and panties when I undress.

The first time we hung out, you smelled funny.
It was the odor of dirt, weed, and again, dog hair, maybe even a little bit of sweat; but mostly you smelled like weed. I wondered if that's how you always smelled...
You burped, you farted, you picked your nose. You were so un-apologetically rude and perhaps even a little barbaric. Perhaps more than a little...

I never said a word; not because I didn't notice but really because I didn't care. I was smitten.

Today, your scent is still reminiscent of pot, and dog hair, and dirt. But I don't say anything; I'm smitten. I love your smell the way I love your slender brown eyes.
I love your filthy bed as much as I love the feel of my fingers running across your soft, creamy skin.
I love your gunky bathroom counters like I love your laugh
your talent
your mind.
I love your ugly because it's a part of you and I want all of you.

My ugly love, you're a messy chestnut.
My beauty, you are pretty as the wind.
Ugly: your mouth is big enough for two mouths.
Beauty: your kisses are fresh as new melons.

Ugly: where did you hid your breasts?
They're meager, two little scoops of wheat.
I'd much rather see two moons across your chest,
two huge proud towers.

Ugly: not even the sea contains things like your toenails.
Beauty: flower by flower, star by star, wave by wave,
Love I've made an inventory of your body:

My ugly one, I love you for your waist of gold;
my beauty, for the wrinkle on your forehead.
My Love: I love you for your clarity, your dark.

Poem by Pablo Neruda, from Cien Sonetos de Amor.

& while I'd hate to compare Pablo Neruda to Lady Gaga, I feel the lyrical content is somewhat similar...

long stretch?

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