I loved his hands
Not too big
Not too small
Just right
And fitted on my hip
That splendorous press
In the small of my back
When he wanted me close

I loved his eyes
That darkly gaze of
Auborn
All full up with the passion
And persuasion
That could make me
Doing anything
The toe tingling
Look or heat
When he turned
That gaze
To mine.

I loved his lips
Rough
And wicked
On my skin.
That purse
Of soft sinfulness
That pressed my
Own to part with sighs

I loved his laugh
Husky happiness
Unrestraind and deep
That moved me to smile
Brightest.
Joined in joyous
Inside jokes
That lingered dimply
In his cheeks.

I loved his heart
The steady thrum
When pressed ear
To his chest
That secret space
Of blood and ache
That he gave me access to
I loved it all


But I
did not
love him.