I had to leave San Francisco last night. Had to leave my lover, Roxy, and the wonderful weekend we had. I don’t want to dwell on the sadness of leaving, but I feel it, certainly.
Instead I want to take a moment to express my gratitude.
Thank you, Roxy,
for your endless supply of love
for the wonderful Italian food
for the drawer
for Buffy vs. Dracula
for all the kisses, the ones we shared and the ones we thought about when we couldn’t have them
for being sexy
for being mine
for loving me so well
for the chocolate
and the beating
for the Rodin
for enjoying domesticity with me
for pampering me
for letting me pamper you
for the snuggly comfortable
for walking proudly arm and arm with me
for sharing your stories
for the look in your eyes when you look at me
for being more sexy and beautiful and desirable every time I see you
for the boots and the shorts and that dangerously sexy vest
for the love, for the sex, for the pillow talk
for wanting the things I want and for sharing the joy of those wishes with me
for being sad and unhappy with me about the wishes we can’t fulfill right now
for telling me that I’m handsome and sexy and strong and just exactly right just the way I am
for skin that smells like roses
and kisses that taste like home
for a body and a soul and a heart that fits together with mine so well, so perfectly, that I can’t help but wonder that we were once a single entity.
I love you my gorgeous, fierce, witty, wonderful, generous, passionate lover. You are my partner, my soul mate, my rapturous love.
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