I close my shades and my curtains, I peek out to make sure no one is looking, I have that butterfly feeling in my stomach, I do not want you to see me anymore.
I look at my berry brown skin, dark and freckled a little from the sun, I watch as my skin fades to February blues pale, and then the color goes completely leaving my skin translucent, and then transparent, like those clear pages of an anatomy book, revealing first my striated muscles and then my veins, blue and red and my pulsing heart and the power lines crackle of my nerves.
I can see all the way through me. You could never see past the end of your own nose, held high.
He fights me over every scrap of paper, and I take off my glasses and rub my face in frustration. Forget it I say, I am just going home.
Later he kisses me, his face all covered in sweat, on my cheek, as I cover my face a little teary eyed. You deserve being treated well he says. You deserve being taken care of. I know I say, but it is awkward. We pass over the floor, here still dirty cream berber, there oak and walnut pegged. I say oh it looks so awesome. You come in, man that floor looks good. Did you want to do this because you know I like hardwoods or because you wanted too I ask. Both he answers, smiling at me with those eyes all crinkled in the corners.
In the hot tub I go and sit on his lap, my arms wrapped around his muscled shoulders my lips soft on his neck. I whisper in his ear, I am so blessed to have you in my life. He kisses my shoulder, and I go back to my place. Ok, finish your beer, and we will get out. I already did, I say, I guess I chugged it. You are awesome he says. Why is that I ask. Because you burp and fart and curse like a sailor and smoke cigars and chug your beer. I laugh.
Can you see why I feel blessed?