YOU TOUCH, YOU BREAK, YOU BUY

The last time I was in Starbucks,
I saw a quite curvaceous woman.
Judging by the degree of her shapeliness,
The neighborhood of Dallas we were in,
And some other, lesser signs.
I guessed her shapeliness had been shaped
With some sort of professional, plasticene help.
I immediately thought of Colin Powell
And his famous “Pottery Barn rule”:
“You touch, you break, you buy.”
Touch those breasts and break — what?
As I write these words, I reflect on that.
Break, or brake, an illusion? A dream? A fantasy?
And whose? Hers? Mine? A generic male’s?
Perhaps all, simmering together in a stew
Of mutual self-deceit —
Her illusion of what the surgery does for her.
My illusion of what her breasts could do for me.
Male generality’s illusion about her attractiveness.
I get to the counter; the barista takes my order.
I steal a last sideways glance while awaiting my half-caf.
The usual. No illusions about Starbucks coffee.
Or about me being all that much less plasticene
Than two D-cups briefly seen while window shopping Silicone Barn.
What’s broken?

LOVE BEAUTY SEX

LOVE BEAUTY SEX



Love is not beauty.
Love is not sex.
Beauty is formed in the eye of a loving beholder.
But itself cannot create love instead of lust.
Love is more than sex, and extends and exists beyond it;
And even better without it at times.



Beauty is not sex.
Beauty is not love.
Many people, at swingers’ parties and clubs
Have engaged in sex when not beautiful, or with those not beautiful
And many beautiful people either cannot or will not
Find or give love.



Sex is not love.
Sex is not beauty.
As John Holmes said, without love
Sex is but mutual masturbation.
And we have plenty of mutual masturbators, as well as solo ones,
In our world.
And sex doesn’t make me, or a partner
Any more beautiful in and of itself.

— Nov. 10, 2008