My Husband
For years I conjured up the man I would marry and Live my entire life with. He was taller than me and more Slender, a pipe-smoker, two years older, ordinarily solemn but Given to rare bouts of silliness, less demonstrative than I But more loyal, more truly affectionate. He could seethe With anger but was good at containing it. Generous, sure of himself, He liked it when I was honored; he always praised my writing. His olive skin didn’t tan easily but looked best when slightly Burned. He liked to crouch over me and fuck my face. His nipples Were hard and black, leaking a scarcity of long black Hairs. He was tidier than I. He remembered everyone’s Birthdays. Trouble at work could upset him. Best of all, He never tired of me and into my seventh decade he
Occasionally screwed me in my sleep and seemed quietly grateful in the Morning over a breakfast of toast and butter and scrambled eggs.
EDMUND WHITE
