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Valentine

  • Contest: Love Poetry
  • Author: John Fuller
  • 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 successfully to guess your weight
    And win you at a fête.
    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 your particulars in folders
    Marked Confidential).

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    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 not 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 cancelling 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 Bride
    Of Frankenstein
    Or something ghoulish out of Mamoulian's
    Jekyll and Hyde.
    I'd even like you as my Julian
    Or 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.

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    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.