I Hate What I Love

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
meditation in blank verse

Submitted: February 08, 2014

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Submitted: February 08, 2014

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I Hate What I Love

I hate two-day dried mustard as much as I love the mustard on simmering meatballs. I love the soft  blanket that warms me when I’m cold as much as I hate it when I can’t pull it off from under me when I’m warm. I hate the  alarm clock as it wakes me up when I want to sleep in as much as I love it when it doesn’t ring. I love ironing towels almost as much as I hate ironing shirts. I hate the cancer-laden cigarette as much as I love the one after. I love the trees in flower to death, and I hate to death the empty ones. I hate her eyes when she frowns at me for being late to a date and I love them when she gazes at me lovingly a minute later in forgiveness. I love her soft lips that drink me in an eternal kiss when I bring her flowers, and hate them when she chides me for not changing their water. I hate her hair fallen on the bed when I wake up with it in my mouth in the morning, but I love it wavy, with locks falling on her shoulders. I love her hands when they massage my head until it gets lost in them and I hate them when they stop. I hate her hands when they are cold without me and I love them when they are cold and I warm them up in mine. I love her uniformly bronzed skin in the summer as much as I hate its winter coarseness. I hate it when she gently pries herself from my arms in the morning as much as I love it when she covers herself with me at night. I love it when she cooks a delicious bream and I hate it when the drumsticks are too burnt and the garlic sauce is too spicy. I love it when she washes my underwear as much as I hate it when she buys me new ones. I love our perfect hugs as much as I hate elbow sprains. I hate it when she drives mad as much as I love it when I drive calm. I love the eternally postponed spring as much as I hate the never-ending winter.I hate something about her as much as I love loving her completely.I love her tears of joy as much as I hate her hysterical laughter.I hate what I love. As much as I love what I hate.I love her heart for beating for me and I hate her mortality.


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