Love Letter
So, this is a love letter
from me
to you
for us.
Quiet Cream
and well moisturized Tan
were my first warm
and appreciative glimpse of you
Engaged listener.
Looks gay men in wounded eyes
while listening,
then speaking,
searching for
and finding acceptance,
at least for here
and now.
While both our neuro-systems ask,
with each breath inhaled,
Am I safe?
Each breath exhaled,
Is this healthy?
Or maybe,
ummm...
"I'll have to think about that."
Not so much
as a glance my witnessing way,
Wondering,
Is he why I am here?
I hope
Would I be appropriate
to here become
for just one Other?
You were not distracted
easily
from eyes
and voices
surrounding your place
in this 44th chapter
in not patriarchal,
but truly not green ecofeminist either,
Gayla BTQ versatile,
exclusive top,
promiscuously inclusive bottom,
anonymous,
romantic-erotic,
occasionally sacredly orgasmic,
political sex health histories.
I wondered
then
as now
where we could fit
In gaps of loneliness
of not being fully known,
exposed,
spiritually and naturally naked
transparent
vulnerable,
fully co-invested,
transculturally cooperative,
co-empathic
co-passionate,
quietly completing each other's unsaid senses,
thoughts,
integrity,
warmth,
refulgent clenching
quenching wetness.
Then, that first smile
just for me.
I am lost in your white teeth,
left-sided dimple,
eyelashes heavy lidding brown-eyed welcome
despite it all
Trust in integrity's healing potential
after considering all losses,
stressors,
past troubling relationships
in gay white male privilege.
There we were
and here we are
ongoing
Me
writing this love letter,
You
curiously waiting to hear
and see
and feel,
to touch
and be touched by,
something possibly on your way,
a lovely surprise
Because
No one writes love letters
evermore
Painlessly including
those inhaling ecstasy
for quiet Cream
and well-moisturized Tan.
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