I’m looking for someone in the 30-35 box that knows what to do with mine.
I want someone who knows how to punctuate properly but is never perfunctory.
I need a man that can snake my drain, oil my engine, while probing my appetites and wetting my organs.
A man with a sense of humor and direction. A sweet guy that let’s me eat them all.
I want a fit man that plays outside. A deep man that seeks. A man with a mouth that makes the dirtiest words seem eloquent and beautiful. He’s going to have an ear that can articulate music in the plainest of beats.
A man that holds me close but gives me space. One with a vision not found in a television. A most courteous, very unholy, heretic.
He has to be a special mix of rebellion and control; adventure and comfort; natural and learned. And he’s going to have to be reckless, careless, yet thoughtful for me to look twice.
A naughty man, in mind and body that knows politely which fork is for salad and which knife for filet.
I need a nice guy whose a smart ass. And I’d prefer he be a smart guy with a nice ass.
One that understands when to hold thy hand and when to sex thy body.
A thinking man that knows Beauvoir, Hunter, Camus, and why I hate Cromwell.
A cute boy that hugs his mother and mine.
He’s going to have to be a fighter that knows when to relent yet also a pacifist that knows when to stand.
A man of good taste in food, in art, in music and people.
A dude that can mick drink with me which means he can drink lots of mickeys if need be.
A man that can look at me- malcontent, vexing, contrary, never precise, but often exacting- and still see me and think we should still be.
And til I find him, I’ll just be him. I complete me.