The Valentines of Lines
for Amanda, written February 14

Some guys buy chocolates for their lovers,
and though I know you’d like that, I think mole
would more appropriately express my feeling for you—
a hundred different flavors that bake and boil
but come out with one unmistakable taste. You’d eat it,
while I watched you, with “Cucurrucucu Paloma” fading
from the stereo as it stepped into our heads. I’d have
a little box of air for you from Mexico—evening
in Taxco with the beggar kids, tamale vendors
of Oaxaca, and the Piaxtlans making romance into cumbia.
You know I’d only buy you gifts from the informal economy,
if I could. Who’s your favorite architect? I’ll have her
build a house for you, me, and our comics collection.
When I draw with you, or draw while thinking of you, I start
to see the valentines of lines all around me. First panel:
We’re flying home from Mexico, and you’re sleeping
on my arm. I’d love to hear your lovely snore.
Next panel: I stop calling my other friends when I come
to town to see you. All the empty word balloons
sit by the phone. The final panel, where I get to know you better,
is repeated over and over. It’s stuck on the Xerox machine,
which is going apeshit, because we’re on top of it,
with the valentines of lines, making love.

posted by Adam at 12:34 PM [edit]