A Kept Man

I suppose that the best thing to do here is to try to speak from the heart. I'm thinking about how the ones we love come to occupy a room within us. How we try to keep them safe and warm within that room and how we sometimes come together and express our love ever so indirectly. We skirt around the issue and we play and tease eachother and every once in a while we look into someone's eyes and we see it. Do they see it in ours? I have to think so. This is my friend, Guy, and I pronounce his name the french way. I know that he loves me because he never lets on how much that irritates him. And he knows that I love him, because I see it in his eyes.