Amiable, hearty Hibby:
Saccharine as freshly sliced pineapple,
Separated to succulent chunks,
And chunks,
And juicy chunks more-
What should I make of his sunup aura:
A nasally bouncy “good morning!”
Followed with high-pitched “coffee, hib?”
The faint smell of veggie submarine, deodorant wash musk,
The pepper of booze,
And his natural scent.
Our romantic, rather cloying love
Is my favorite flavor upon palate tender
Like steaming meat falling apart at the stiff osseous-
To be enjoyed by secret party only-
To go coveted by her or him
Twice, or perhaps a third time again.
It does not matter what physical form
That he transforms to this lifetime, what form
He takes, his body and his face,
His shape and his weight, his arms and his legs.
My attraction is abyssal
And rather immeasurable, his
Embodiment and vessel
Forever my holy temple
To the masculine, alpha-God-
matching his alpha-goddess stature upon their throne-
Pansies and hyacinths upon thine ankles-
Forest Ivy poised armor upon thine chest-
Bow and arrow burrow in shoulder,
Of gold, diamond, and opal-my love,
Will you save me?
Will you manifest our destiny?
Will you be my Valentine?
The Human Healer’s Stories 