Men have covered themselves with adornments for centuries. Trends come and go: Fur pelts, body paint, piercings, tattoos, loin cloths, uniforms, denim, gabardine, super 180’s, sea island cotton, face powder, handcuffs, perfume, cologne, and the list goes on and on. In many respects, we men have adorned ourselves much like our fairer sex counterparts have adorned themselves, and probably, to a greater degree, even more.
I’ve learned over the course of my lifetime that when I gave the gift of adornments to a lover, I’m giving a bauble that I think they would look hot wearing. It doesn’t matter what they like, I think that they’ll like what I placed before them. Almost as though I was making an offering to an idol.
And our lovers are our idols, aren’t they? Don’t we prostrate ourselves at their feet? Don’t we pray to them? Don’t we look into their eyes and see the Divine? Don’t we think that their body is the only thing that even begins to come close to paradise in this whole lousy world? And don’t we love them sooooo much that the experience borders on cultism?
I love my beautiful Abram with my entire heart and soul. I love him so much that I can’t imagine my life without his life. Abram and I are a letter and an envelope. We’re like a catchers mitt and a baseball. We’re just like cookies in a cookie jar.
And when I prostrate myself at his feet and raise adornments above my head I know that he will take them without pause and place them on his body. Then with his delicate fingers, he will lift my head to meet his gaze and place an impassioned kiss on my lips, thanking me for the adornment. (And he will look so hot in it)!