My Beautiful Perfect Baby Boy

(for James, someone very special to me. Hope he's okay tonight. And the song he played me I love very very much.)

I remember everything. You traveling to my house on skateboard by moonlight. Your long feet in black Converse as you sprawled on the floor of my back porch. The black circles under your eyes which weren't just from the eyeliner you'd rubbed off. The way you called me mommy as you slammed into me from behind. Sucking hungrily at your lip ring as you kissed me. How I felt so warm and full with you afterwards and like everything was right with the world. 

I put you into bed. Pulled the blanket over you and tucked you in like a little boy. Like I would my own son. Kissed your face and nose. You pulled me tight into the warm fragrant lanky cave of your body. Buried your face in my breasts and fell asleep. I extricated myself from you painfully. Not before I examined and thoroughly learned every groove and valley in your fingers. Not wanting to relinquish such bliss. Brought​ you ice water because you were dehydrated from drinking too much. Watched over you as you slept like the dead. In the morning, I lay hunched over the glass table in the kitchen passed out because I didn't want my own slumber to wake you. You vanished​ quietly. I could still smell you on my sheets. I'd asked you, What is that cologne you wear. Dollar store, you said. 
  
I'd never smelled anything so wonderful.