01 23 19

Monkey,

As I was writing this, I was watching you bathe in your bathroom. Yesterday, I wasn't as emotional as the first two days, but seeing you naked now, your wholeness, your bare skin wrapped against your muscles, the small amount of fat in your belly that sometimes wiggled when you move; your hairy, golden-brown skin that is freckled with moles—I can’t help but be emotional. I long for your body that keeps me warm at night, for your touch that makes me feel both safe and electrified.

Seeing you scrubbing, shampooing yourself tears me up. Because the most I could do was look at you in the video and touch your body virtually. It pains me that I no longer get to run my hands across your skin, your beard, your lips, your nose, your hair; and even the tiny hair of the mole on your left shoulder, your hairy chest and rock-hard nipples, your tender belly, the trail of hair underneath your navel, and your cleanly-shaved penis and your pair of dangling potatoes which, now that I have thought of it, probably are the only parts of your body that you religiously maintain hair-free.I sorely miss getting in the shower with you. How we would goof around every time, how we soap and shampoo each other from head to toes, how we would take turns in taking a dump while we smoke before we shower; how you would always, always surprise me with the blast of the cold water from the shower head and how I would scream because of it, how I would dance after and how we would laugh about our silliness, how we would kiss and say I love you at each other, and how it would sometimes lead us to making love in the bathroom. It has become our bathing ritual. And no mornings feel right without it.

No mornings would ever feel right waking up into without you beside me.


Longing for you,
Babi