Toshiro Mifune, I Love You

By Kathleen Ellis

1
In the end. I was like the others.
A stalker.

I rushed to see your latest films,
as if love could be

handed out in black and white —
fierce but intimate.

Some boyfriends didn’t like you
or didn’t want me to like you:

too much testosterone, too much grunting,
too much scowling.

And sometimes I didn’t watch the action
in fear of losing you.

2
The other day, I found an old poster
for Seven Samurai

where you are naked to the waist,
and your whole body

is coming to the defense of something
or someone you don’t even know.

Or here you are again, traipsing after
the six rogue samurai,

wanting to be like them, wanting to save
the villagers from themselves.

Feral and arrogant, you seize the moment
with your single–edged sword,

while some run toward you, wanting
to save you as your heart gives out.

3
Watching you in the long rains,
my heart, too, fades,

which is why I come back for more —
to stand in your sandals

and resist the bandits, confronting fear.
In the end, you are like all of us.

What we love keeps us coming
back for more.