For Frazier

I have thought more of you this day than in all the days we have known each other.

I wish we had more time.

The irony of it all.

Had you not let me go–two years seven months later; you are leaving me.

I never told you.  My favorite style.

Watching you take your motorcycle helmet off; revealing the blue scarf tied around your head, your dark curls reaching down to touch the nape of your neck; priceless.

The Peace Officer goes thug.

I never told you.  My favorite event.

When you rolled around the corner with your friends in that red Jeep and I was sitting on the back of the 325i waiting to whisk you away; hearing all about you strip club experience.

Men.

I never told you.  My favorite glance.

Each time you looked at me, not then.  Now when I remember.

I wish we had more time.

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