A Tribute

We have fabulous dates. We look at art, listen to music, drink beer. You held my hand in the dark of the concert hall, bought me champagne at intermission, and admired my fancy shoes. You unlock the car for me. You taught me what is great about a certain line in a painting, the physical genius of it. You pointed out a particularly fine sculpted ass. We've eaten oysters and sucked the brine off each other's tongues while people stared. You hold the door for me.

You cook weird and wonderful foods. When you slice fruit, you fan it out to make it look pretty on my plate. You taught me that lots of sugar makes coffee good.

You're handsome. Your hair is soft to touch. I always want to caress your scars. Your chest is good and hairy but your arms are not. Your hands are beautiful. You don't bite your nails anymore. I love your tight ass. I can see your muscles move as you walk or fuck. You move with grace.

You have funny habits and peccadillos. You're flawed and weird and sometimes I laugh at you. There are issues. Don't even get me started about your pet. And clean out your car!

You're powerful and strong. You move my body with authority. Your kindness is overwhelming as you bow to my wishes. There is nothing concealed; you asked for what you wanted, so now I know without you speaking. You are in equal measure selfish and selfless, taking what you want and giving without asking. Your passion is relentless. I'm breathless with the anticipation of you and what we are together.

You make me laugh and you make me think. You love every part of my body, zealously. You are a loyal friend.

To say that I will miss you. . .

...this is the part I don't have words for.