Thursday, April 27, 2006

the irony in marriage....

Dennis wants me to clean. Our apartment is actually "clean" but is also really disorganized. So I organized tonight and made dinner for when he came home. Dennis's idea of organization (he has a "system") is that he has a place for basically every single piece of mail that we get and I'm not supposed to touch things that are his (read: our DMV paperwork for new tags; bank of america registration stuff for the new card issued to him after the old card was used in some kind of fraud.)
Amidst the chastising of me for touching his things, I found the bank stuff pretty quickly. And at the same time, managed to remind him that he constantly nags me about cleaning our apartment. (Seriously, you could see the coffee table...) We couldn't find the stupid DMV paperwork and this means that I probably threw it away or put it somewhere and that I need to stop touching his papers.
So I walked out, prayed, went back and even volunteered to go through the trash. But before I got that far (and before he let me, grr...), I looked at our refrigerator. The DMV papers were on our refrigerator the whole time. In retrospect I even remember putting them there to remind Dennis to pay for our new tags for the car.
We did laugh about it, which is progress. Dennis has promised to clean his desk so that I can put all paperwork that is "his" on his desk, so that he finds things and I don't disrupt his system. (He did eventually thank me for cleaning and making dinner...)

Anyway, I wanted to post a poem that I found from a good friend of mine, that she wrote at the beginning of her relationship with her girlfriend. I think it is really a beautiful poem.

If not that I love her
At least she has changed me
Or knew me
Like the sun feels
My skin
And in my fantasy
Playground she is there
With that helping hand
When I fall
And she notices the
Dirt on my pants
And laughs
And shes a mystery.
My mystery.
Because she wont
Even let the air
Know that shes breathing.
But Ive spoken to him
And he tells me
About her
On thorns
On rich leafy green secrets
That I know
And she pretends not to.
Or she doesnt know how she
Covered my eyes with mud
And Whispered into my ear. So great..
And cleaned them with
Her rose petal kisses.
Its not that I love her
Its that my mind seems
In line with her
And I feel a little
More perfect each
Day. And thats unreal
But Ive been
Proven guilty.
So how can I resist
Breaking the law?
And maybe I just like her
And listening to her.
Because when youve been
Given a person
Who rises and falls
With the sun with you
You cant help but
Let the air know
I cant just love her

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