my best friend is my right hand guy.
tending my needs
sharing bad dreams
catching post traumatic tears.
anytime,
every time,
except when he’s beneath me
my thighs sandwiching his ears.

my best friend is the guy on my right.
shoulder to lean on
always by my side
like honey to a bear.
anywhere,
everywhere,
especially when we’re driving
seeing that my eyes are the better pair.

my best friend will always be the right guy.
tried and truest
whatever’s ahead
in my corner he stands.
there will never be anyone,
or anything,
that will ever hold a candle,
a flame,
or an everlasting blaze
to my right-hand man.