I hate thee with the pieces and fragments and bits
Of broken ornaments, the piece that never fits
From the ends of my fingers and ideal repair
I hate thee so much I have to swear
A smashed souvenir, of sun and candle-light.
I hate thee freely, I can't make this look Right;
I hate thee purely, my repairs earn no praise.
I hate that you are impossible to use
On household items, and on my childhood toys.
I hate that my fingerprints I seem to lose
When I open the tube, --- I hate thee with the breath,
Fumes making tears, all my life! --- and, because I can't choose,
I shall but hate thee again tomorrow.
Apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning
|Nails: Bell Air Flow, Shade 702, with added superglue|