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.