On weaknesses

Weaknesses? I have weaknesses.  Veined forearms. Leather-bound books.  Egg yolk on your fingertips.  Nasturtiums.  Joan & David shoes.  Jungle houseplants that need help or are out of control.  Big dogs.  Big pieces of metal.  Driftwood.  Flowery sun dresses with black background.  Old bathtubs.  Bathtubs outside.  Small gardens.  Cookie dough.  Green apples. Port.  Dockhands.  Hazel eyes.  Men in transportation.  Kids who are muddy.  Mom’s coffee.  White corn with sweet butter and lime juice.  Ice cubes in the bath.  Piebalds.  Sudden departures.  Unexpected arrivals.  Indian paintbrush and lupine.  But there’s a question of distinction.  What tugs at your oldest heartstrings is different from what makes your knees go weak, or your mouth go dry, or you hear the trumpet concertos.  Or for what you’re just a plain sucker.   Cucumber and mustard sandwiches.  Garlic sandwiches.  Leaning.  Footstools. Testing shower water on your belly.  Long trumpet notes.  A hand holding a hip.  Books falling off the bed.  Fire trucks.  Ferry accidents.

The ten thousand things.


About Lorca Smetana

White doves. Retreats. Insects. Languages. Making.
This entry was posted in Oooh, shiny...! and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to On weaknesses

  1. Cherilyn says:

    Girl, you can write! Absolutely love this. More, more!!

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