February 12, 2012

My dearest,

This song they sing — the birds and the bees, even the chimpanzees, apparently – they sing for they want to be close to you. I cannot imagine why. (I must have missed the sign. I must have missed the cue.)

You fart in the house — POP! and POP! — like a pistol going off. You wait till I’m near before you do this, then pretend it’s a cough.

You leave socks and shirts and pants all over the living room as you roam. You say you are indulging in interior decoration; this is how a house becomes a home.

You snore when you sleep, your nostril hairs curling into dreamy weaves. You say — oh but who cares what you say! I listen to you snoring and it’s like falling leaves. Your breath a lullaby that brings slumber close as I too snuggle closer and closer, your breath a flower, a rose.

Forget the birds and forget the bees. Forget those monkeys and those chimpanzees. Let me occupy and let me take the cue. Let me retain and remain close to you.

Yours, ever and always.