He speaks to me two languages— audible affection, and mute tempestuous desire. He respects me as two people— moral woman, and capable lover. He sees me with double vision— close friend, and a warm set of hips. He touches me with mixed sensations— brotherly kindness, and hungry lust. He’s enamored and frustrated— happy and unhappy, respecting and wanting. He’s made that way— I adore his kindness, admire his restraint.