Sunday, February 13, 2011

'tis the season

I wrote this a couple years ago, actually. In honor of the this goofy day of hearts and in honor of Husband-Guy:

Love Poem

Like with every other incidence of toil
in my husband's life,
at each small upturn in his struggle
with the stomach flu
he swears he's over it,
is convinced
he has passed through the worst,
never to return just before
the color in his face drains
and he bolts
toward the bathroom.
We are so unalike:
me - staring into the black
of the world and knowing it
for darkness, him –
riding the tunnel again and again
to the light, unfazed
by the echoing chamber,
the swelling nausea no reason
not to perk up the next time
he feels a spark of relief.
It is optimism
that borders foolishness,
at the very least, a disregard
for simple reason. This
must be why I married him,
to sleep next to that sense of wonder,
bathe in the electricity
of an essential determination
that everything is fine,
to trace the stubbled chin
of goodness with my cheek,
and then, to write it down.

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