My love
He is the inspiration to my words, my male muse.
I lasso as many hours, minutes, seconds of his time as I can, simply because he is who he is and he just so happens to be the single most incredible creature.
In the corporate fishbowl, he makes the dance look new. He has the passion and the drive; the humility and kindness required to be so amazing.
He stirs in me a sweeping will to do better, to achieve greater.
With the sexual exploration and honesty of Anais Nin; if she were a man, he opens me up to possibilities and endless pleasures.
The sight of him turns me on; the smell of him.
Unearthly beauty.
Before him; emptiness easily explained: a dream unreachable and improbable, to a fairy tale scene with a dash of supreme reality.
Moments that spoke of mistrust, fear, jealousy, and anger never long stayed.
And now those moments speak of all that’s happened, of all the precious, priceless time shared between us, being alive.
Mostly they say: I love you.
And only you.
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