Written before he died

 

lying and living on a bed, loving the comes that flow, loving the flow that comes from my pencil  on a blank, unlined piece of paper,  flowing with love when I write,

this nurtures me.

It's something being better than sex that nurtures me, something being more and different from sex nurtures, something being sex but other nurtures, sensual.

My sensuality nurtures me, my sensuality enjoyment of a hot shower nurtures me, my gratitude nurtures me, my gratitude when I'm afraid nurtures me, when a partner is distant in every way, when we aren't connecting and a shower connects me to my gratitude for life, this nurtures me.

A body in my flat nurtures, a connecting body, an alive, vital body who will talk, who will connect, who isn't afraid. A body, a companion, a colleague, a friend. People being close nurture me. Sunday brunch with friends nurtures me. Crying on the phone that I need company on a Sunday nurtures me. Someone saying yes nurtures me. Someone saying Come over nurtures me. Someone saying Stay as long as you want nurtures me. Someone saying Stay.