15 ways of looking at a blackbird (erotica version)

There are so many ways to talk about the time that I spent with Bear this week, I can't just pick one. Instead, let me share some flashes of our precious 12 hours with you like facets of a crystal--or a Wallace Stevens poem.

Sex. Touch. Passion, Imagine making love with someone you haven't seen where it's better than you remembered. In fact, it's amazing. Imagine being so aroused, so wet, that having your lover's cock inside you feels like honey, like molten gold. Imagine the feeling that your bodies were made to be together, that somehow the parts just fit and that in fitting together you were not only reconnecting, but you had to do it, again and again.

Caring. Humor, Friendship. Imagine walking and talking together, a dinner made easy by laughter and sharing. Common insights, warmth, so much to share and say. Listening. Understanding. Alone once again in a city neither of us lived in, Bear and I had what can be only be described as flow, the natural harmony of two people in the zone.

Age. Race. Ethnicity. Class. Did I mention before that I am almost twice Bear's age? Or that while we come from not that dissimilar backgrounds, our color, class, and ethnic identifications are quite dissimilar? And did I mention I am almost twice Bear's ago? Whatever differences are between us, the connection is real--and magic.

Understanding. Acceptance. Love. The first nightI spent with Bear, almost two years ago, the thought went through my mind, "I love this person." Now, in the third winter of our friendship, I know it's true. I love Bear--he's someone the Net brought to me, someone with whom I was pulled together, across all sorts of time and space, to become this very real, very tangible friend--a gift that's very special to me. We have what we have--and it's all good--an amazing present.