||[Mar. 27th, 2006|09:45 am]
|||||"The First Cut is the Deepest" Sheryl Crowe||]|
26 March, 2006
My Three Kings
It’s Sunday. It’s as good a day as any for writing a love letter to those who’ve left my life. I want to focus on three. These three who loved me for a time and who were not related by blood. I want to weave a work that gives you an impression of three of my Kings. Being my King is an easy job to come by. You simply talk to me and look me in the eye. You simply enter my home as if you want to come in. The rewards are great, too. You get a devoted fan. You occasionally get laundry service. You get a handy personal assistant and someone to sit and think with. You get massages when I’m feeling tactile. You get unexpurgated appraisal of your potential sexual partners. As combatants in the best Kung-fu movies, though, my Kings arrive one at a time and politely wait in the wings until the previous has played his part. To be clear, Eric is my brother and not my King. Most of my Kings, blood or otherwise, have been of African descent. It just happens that way. Most have preferred the sexual company of men. I suppose I could investigate the pattern, but I’d be afraid analysis might break the spell and I’d not have anymore beautiful, sensitive chocolate men come my way.
( Three of My KingsCollapse )