tenderness

IMG_2042this is what is tender –

he looks at me so deeply, and the way he says my name so soft
the way his hand travels down the long, fleshy side of my leg
i love this part of your body, he says

he is the first white man in many years, and the first with ink

to lay over me
to look at me so deeply

to stop mid-thrust to ask me my favorite color
or to just hold my face –

after years of cavernous space
there is some solace with this earth bender
who has molded fire and glass
with the same hands that not once leave my body, even afterwards. they roll over me as if exploring precious terrain

oh, how he makes my breath sweeter

i am grateful for these things,

the too quick moments in his embrace
the way he lets me cry on his neck, his arm
as he holds me and says
it is ok. it will all be ok

so few of us have such a lover-

a lover that is a short story with long ripple the one that prepares us for something else

the lovers that bring our phantom limbs into being so we can move on to hold others

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