Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Breathe in red fur; Smile

My Dependent Co-Arising quest moved to Ohio as I visited my family, including my two boys (dogs) Akira and Shiro.

Sensory Recall

When I put my face against my dog’s,

I smell dirt and grass and whatever he last rolled in.

When he kisses my lips, a coppery after-taste
remains as a reminder.

It is not so much that I like the pungent outdoor odor

or the sharp metallic taste

as that I love my dog

and those smells and that taste are associated with him,

so that some of the love for the being

is transferred onto the attributes.

Then, each smell, each taste, apart from the being,
is attached to a memory of a face pressed against mine—

It may hit me miles away.

A cool fall breeze reminding me of the scent
of my dog returning indoors from wrestling
with a pile of orange leaves.

This is what I felt when I drank Guinness after you—

in tasting what your mouth savored,

I tasted you.

When I drink Guinness,

it is because I want

to kiss you.

In your always present absence

it is my dog who kisses my face.

But just for a second, I imagine

there is a smell of spiced leather

and a taste

of Guinness.

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