She Said

She said that I needed to develop a swaggering way with the ladies.

I also needed:
a pair of big black boots (but not my sexy knee boots - too girly);
more boxer shorts;
white lace panties;
to lighten up.
And to hold her while she came back down to earth after I took her to the moon.

She said that any dyke worth her salt would be
pounding down my door as soon as I was on the market.

She said that she missed me
through the phone line
in the middle of the night

and that I drove her crazy good.

If she let me out of her sight, she said, some other woman would come along
and win me away.
"You love so easy," she said.

She said, "I could do nothing but kiss you, my dear,"
and "Sweet Kitty Cat, roll over on your back for me...
You're such a good Kitty."

I was funny, so funny. And smart.
And also:
sexy,
beautiful,
strong
and the sweetest girl she'd ever met.
She said so. It must have been true.

She said these things for months.

And then she said:
"I love you. You know?
But I'm not in love with you.
I'll be your friend, your lover.
But not your girlfriend.
I'll never leave your side, not ever.
But if you need something real, I'll step down and let you find it.
Somewhere else."

I turned my head to the side,
covered my eyes and said,
"Babe.
Jesus, Babe."
And then, "Just let me hold you a while. Just for a while."

She curled up into my arms and my heart and my mind and my soul
and she said, "OK. But just for a while."