Body Heat

//body heat

A warm and loving man,
with sweetness in his soul,
refreshing, clean as an autumn wind
with a voice
that’s pleasant as a cello.
He makes my gut shiver
with pleasure still,
after years,
even when asking, “What’s French
for summer?” while doing
a crossword puzzle.

When I first saw him
run from the bus he’d walked
me to, on a cold, snowy Boston
night, where our eyelashes were
starred with snowflakes,
I knew I wanted
to know all his ways,
be with him as he aged.

He soon knew too.
Straightforward as an
old recorder song, with
an irresistible twinkle,
he laughs
at me, marvels at me, wants to keep me in his
home, doesn’t care what I wear
or how recently I’ve combed my
hair, flatters me, tells me I’m beautiful,
craves me,
makes me his home.
I hunger for him too.
he gives me body heat.