I watch him change into his uniform, and it's like getting to look backstage at a theater, or underground at Disney World, or behind the altar of a Catholic church, looking into the magic…only sexual…sensual…his hands and fingers, he's proud while I watch…he knows I want him. He's my husband. And he wants me…only me…excluding all the rest. I have stood with him in that dress, promised him everything. Meant it, didn't go lightly, went in trembling…until I wasn't. So I lean on our bedroom wall, my hands behind, nailed to the wall by my own behind. He lets me watch him tuck and buckle, and strap on and zip up, each movement, each graceful move, and sound...he keeps looking at me, and he seems pretty amused, happy. I move toward him slow where he stands by the dresser, tucking his wallet into his back pocket, but his eyes, crisp in this dim light, and that grin…. We kiss and kiss and kiss.
