is the way she clipped a two-year-old's finger nails with patience.

The sexiest part obviously

is the way she fills a pair of tight pants.

The sexiest part

is the way she read every night to our abandoned three-year nephew and when he didn't want to read she made up stories, and when he finally slept she made actual plans either to adopt or abduct him, because his mother was young and cruel.

Our life together is my fetish, my connection, my lucky fit.

The sexiest part

is that she still took her stepdaughter and step-niece shopping, and to the Natural History Museum, and to the park, and to see The Little Mermaid and all that, although almost everyone in the family tried to divide us for five years.

The sexiest part

has nothing to do with cooking, she does salads okay, and toast, she has a vegetable sauté and melted cheese dish I like but she stopped making it, she's not a good cook and I don't really care.

The sexiest part

is the unpredictable switch in her stance, which I can only relate to a mare in heat I saw once when a stallion was being led around the other side of a corral, until later.

The sexiest part

is when there are mind games they aren't the kind that are impossible to get through; neither do they last very long. Of course, the apologies are endless.

The sexiest part

is that she is not "sexy," she is mild in a way that protects the exotic thing about her.

The sexiest part

is when we are a little desperate when we make love, because finally, before the other, one of us will go down.

The sexiest part

is the powerless magic of not parting, but magic nonetheless.