i have always fancied the decrepit,
the abandoned,
the unsightly,
the imperfect,
the rough,
the dull.
i have always found refuge
in desolate places
and found company
in the derelict.
the unwanted,
the forsaken,
the forlorn,
have always held my interest.
there is something unbelievably beautiful
in sadness
that draws me,
that calls me to it.
perhaps this is the same appeal
that holds me to you.
i look at you
and touch you
and i draw back in pain,
but i desire to embrace you still,
you
and your undesirable past,
your confused present,
and your uncertain future.
i am there
touching every scar
and wanting to peer
through every crack and crevice.
i want every tear
for myself.
i shall keep every drop
in a jar inside my heart
until i, too, overflow
with every ache.
it takes one to know one,
my brother always said.
i guess he’s right.
my own weaknesses,
my blemishes,
my defects
make it easy for me
to look at you
and see that you are one
of incomparable value.
those are battle scars,
i'd always say.
nobody has a right
to disrespect
the wars
others have fought
and the losses
others have suffered.
yours are some
of the most interesting
wounds i've ever seen.
your imperfections are priceless, baby,
and i’d gladly give what’s left unscarred in me
for the benefit
of embracing
all that you are.
for j.e.
*111614
