The Ultimate Valentine By John Fuller

The Ultimate Valentine -- John Fuller









Valentine,

The things about you I appreciate may seem indelicate:

I’d like to find you in the shower

And chase the soap for half an hour.

I’d like to have you in my power and see your eyes dilate.

I’d like to have your back to scour

And other parts to lubricate.

Sometimes I feel it is my fate

To chase you screaming up a tower or make you cower

By asking you to differentiate Nietzsche from Schopenhauer.

I’d like to successfully guess your weight and win you at a féte.

I’d like to offer you a flower.



I like the hair upon your shoulders,

Falling like water over boulders.

I like the shoulders, too: they are essential.

Your collar-bones have great potential

(I’d like all your particulars in folders marked Confidential).



I like your cheeks, I like your nose,

I like the way your lips disclose

The neat arrangement of your teeth

(Half above and half beneath) in rows.



I like your eyes, I like their fringes.

The way they focus on me gives me twinges.

Your upper arms drive me berserk.

I like the way your elbows work, on hinges.



I like your wrists, I like your glands,

I like the fingers on your hands.

I’d like to teach them how to count,

And certain things we might exchange,

Something familiar for something strange.

I’d like to give you just the right amount and get some change.



I like it when you tilt your cheek up.

I like the way you nod and hold a teacup.



I like your legs when you unwind them.

Even in trousers I don’t mind them.

I like each softly-moulded kneecap.

I like the little crease behind them.

I’d always know, without a recap, where to find them.



I like the sculpture of your ears.

I like the way your profile disappears

Whenever you decide to turn and face me.

I’d like to cross two hemispheres and have you chase me.

I’d like to smuggle you across frontiers

Or sail with you at night into Tangiers.

I’d like you to embrace me.



I’d like to see you ironing your skirt and canceling other dates.

I’d like to button up your shirt.

I like the way your chest inflates.

I’d like to soothe you when you’re hurt

Or frightened senseless by invertebrates.



I’d like you even if you were malign

And had a yen for sudden homicide.

I’d let you put insecticide into my wine.

I’d even like you if you were the Bride of Frankenstein

Or something ghoulish out of Mamoulian’s Jekyll and Hyde.

I’d even like you as my Julian of Norwich or Cathleen ni Houlihan.

How melodramatic

If you were something muttering in attics

Like Mrs Rochester or a student of boolean mathematics.



You are the end of self-abuse.

You are the eternal feminine.

I’d like to find a good excuse

To call on you and find you in.

I’d like to put my hand beneath your chin. And see you grin.

I’d like to taste your Charlotte Russe,

I’d like to feel my lips upon your skin,

I’d like to make you reproduce.



I’d like you in my confidence.

I’d like to be your second look.

I’d like to let you try the French Defence and mate you with my rook.

I’d like to be your preference and hence

I’d like to be around when you unhook.

I’d like to be your only audience,

The final name in your appointment book, your future tense.

finestfrenzy finestfrenzy
26-30, F
Feb 15, 2010