~~Dear, Mr. Liverpool,
1. I love
that you see me.
You know, without
makeup. Hideous and Stinky. Hair piled unwashed and uncombed. Me. The unpainted version of me. The real me. The muted me….. & still, you love.
2. I love your British accent wrapping around
me like the 4 Beatles.
3. I love that you pretend to get pleasure from
burnt bacon on Saturday mornings.
4. I love that when I burst into tears
mid-sentence because of Kay’s murder, you gaze at me with tender, knowing, sugary
5. I love that you read every. single. blog.
And even though you discipline me sometimes for my sweltering,
spontaneous, straightforward tone, you never judge me. Never.
6. I love that you support my “Writing”
7. I love that you’ve attended each one of
my poetry readings, poetry recitals, & domestic violence causes. Always, without question. I see you sitting there smiling.
8. I love that you never leave the table
without saying “thank you” for your meal…even when it’s overcooked,
undercooked, & shockingly, charcoaly appalling.
Is that a British trait, mate?
9. I love that after all of these years, even when I’ve asked, you’ve
never told me my ass was big.
You are an exceptionally intelligent man.
10. I love that you love me.
In spite of everything,
In spite of everything.
-The first song we danced to in Mexico. Remember, dear? You couldn’t keep your hands off of me