As The August Earth Needs Rain

She had a dignity about her that I lacked. It was that gravitas, I think, that I found most attractive. Kissing her was not like kissing any woman I’d ever been with before. It was like receiving a medal. A knighthood, even. Not in the sense of being granted something out of magnanimity, but in the sense of its being something splendid and uplifting. I didn’t feel deprived when we took awhile to go farther than kissing and stroking. It seemed very appropriate to carry our physical relationship forward in stages. Anyway, kissing and stroking her was just…better than with anyone else. I understood why it was that until quite recently, what we call “making out” was what people meant when they said “making love”.

When we finally did proceed to having sex, that was something special, too. The word “consummation” never seemed so right. Yes, even in bed – actually, it was on her living room floor, to be precise, and it doesn’t seem wrong to speak in detail about our sexual intimacy. Maybe because even there she had an amazing elegance and dignity. I found as the months went by that every time was a “consummation”, not just the first time.

It was very hot sex, too, by the way. She was the first lover I’d had who actually preferred anal sex over anything else. I was happy to oblige – she taught me quick but thorough hygiene that protected us both from infection. I learned to really enjoy rimming her through a dental dam. Yes, even that was dignified. Her anus absorbed the love of my tongue in an august and stately fashion, as ridiculous as that sounds.

We’d still be together today if she hadn’t had that stroke. Oh, well, shit happens. At least it was quick. And at least I took something of her away. I’m a much more dignified and settled person myself now.

 The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Well, that was unexpected."

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42578/from-the-house-of-yemanja