Thursday, October 1, 2009

Neither Person, Place, Thing Nor Noun

Sometimes he smells of wet suit, mouth, of pencil, of dirt but clean (puppy dog tails); in the morning, of shaving cream. (Other times I cannot smell him at all, and I know I am home.)
At night he watches 90210 with me. Hanh haanh haaanh, from the other end of the couch he mimics the girl with the too big teeth, and we laugh. Hanh haanh haaanh, all night we turn to each other and say this, curls of funny like a fire.

(I hate when he licks me, my shoulder, my cheek. But it's a love lick, he says, knowing how I hate. Don't fucking lick me, I say and rub at my skin with his shirt.)

Other times he works in his office, throwing hazelnuts at me there in the living room. I find them when I move the couch, the coffee table, traces of him everywhere rolling across the hardwood floor. (Most times we exist, he and I, in things that are found beneath furniture.)

When we sleep he snores. Grey sounds fecund from his chest, and I have learned to kick him with each inhale so that he thinks he woke himself up. Susannah, how old am I? he asked last night, and when I told him he kissed me. Thank you, for a minute I thought I was 38. Sometimes he burns like a coin between my palms filling everything.

***Something about this image says love to me (not lust). I was told that my grandmother was not allowed to eat bananas in public, or maybe ever.***

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

Really lovely post.

Sparkie said...

Nice.

jennifer said...

i feel these words, they remind me of loving and of comfort.

Kwana said...

Beautiful post. So like home.

krista said...

maybe it's a 'bryan with a y' thing. they exist in the adjectives. which is refreshing considering there are far too many people, places and things round here.

Anonymous said...

So lovely! The two of you are so lucky to have each other, and Zoe to have you as parents.

Unknown said...

Your grandmother was not allowed to eat bananas in public or in private.

Simply Mel {Reverie} said...

It is amazing how they are always around - here, there, everywhere. Just like finding his trail of Q-tips he leaves around the house or his un-finished mugs of tea he couldn't wait to drink and never did.

There is something so wonderful and comforting about these little things...and it makes me happy knowing you find them lovely too.

blanco said...

I understand this completely. A lovely post.
I'm also intrigued about the banana thing?

Petunia Face said...

Thank you all :)

I think the deal with my grandmother is that her parents thought eating bananas was obscene. Which sucks because bananas are so freaking yummy.

Judy said...

Re the Grandma Do Banana Ban....as I always understood it, bananas were just way too phallic and the mental image of eating a banana-here, there or anywhere....well, NO, scrub that right out of your brain. Additionally, I think that a fruit that one had to peel and eat with one's hands was considered "Common" and "Common" was simply not done, Dearie.

Your post was just beautiful. It brought back some wonderful, silly but oh so comforting memories. Those "little things" end up to be so potent. Maybe the little things are everything?

Love You,
Mom....suddenly really craving a banana....and the mental image as well:)

Erin said...

Beautiful! A love letter to love. "Le Billet Doux"

Michelle M in KY said...

OH SUSANNAH...
I, too, understand! Trails of small hair all over the sink where he shaves...crumbs on the counter where he makes his sandwich in the mornings...things that tie him to me and me to him. Usually they make me a little irritated at first and then somehow, tend to make me smile. A beautiful post girl. BTW...I LOVE it when your Mom chimes in and comments. Have a great weekend!

meinkc said...

..I love it that J said 'here, there, and everywhere'. It's musical, like love. I'm a girl whose love has Left Her. Or maybe whose love was never there and can't Be. So. The physical traces are equally palpable but more sad (shoelace, tie, sock, gone). But maybe anything that has to do with anything related to love is Not Sad at all and sort of good don't you think? I'm just glad that you See It (him) in the Here and Now. Why am I Capitalizing Everthing? not sure...maybe i should talk to you like this from now on. yes, that's cooler, no? love, me :)