The man I love is not an easy man.
Intriguingly complex he holds my heart in the palm of his hand.
Dreaming of his face for nigh on thirty years.
Telling me to be patient. He would come to me, calming my fears.
Hair dark as night, bedroom eyes, and handsome as sin.
Plato’s heaven and hell he’s been and back again.
Yet his heart remains gentled, his spirit free.
He melts my heart when he looks at me.
The words that used to come so easily fail to describe how he makes me feel.
The dangerous world became safe and my wounds he has healed.
Our destiny was written in the stars so many years ago.
My lover, friend, and confident. Dear God I love him so.
By Kay L. Schlagel
