Say My Name

I forced fear to recede. “You’re right,” I said. “This is love. I love you. And you love me. And there’s nothing else.”

“And there’s nothing else,” he repeated, my words his again.

That night, we slept face to face, our noses touching. When I awoke in the night, which I often did, I kissed him. When he awoke in the night, which he rarely did, he kissed me.

When I got up to relieve myself, he came along. He was behind me, holding me as I voided, directing me into the bowl, making even the solitary act of urinating about the two of us.

I did what he had done. I kissed the moles on his back as he added his urine to mine, my hand guiding him.

We folded into one another. I became part of him, and he became part of me.