Archive for May, 1985

1985-05-29 May 25th.85

Wednesday, May 29th, 1985
                                                        May 25th.85
                                        Hey Dennis speaking,
            I've been looking at that little girl on my chest of
    drawers.  So cute, so submissive, so sweet.  You, who have been used
    to such strong women.  You've got your rock of Gibralter down south,
    keeping everything together for you, and then, there's me and the
    others, all pretty strong women I suspect.  How are you going to
    deal with all that unassertivness?  What?  What did you say?  You're
    going to try hard?  A new challenge?  An enlightening experience?  I
    can see your smile from here.
            This is all on my mind because I'm going to miss you so.  My
    feelings have evolved without even consulting me.  So fast.  Nobody
    said, "Lise, we're contemplating going to the next step up.  What do
    you think?".  No-o-o-o.  It all happened behind my back.  When I
    wasn't looking.  And I thought I had everything under control.  The
    girl needed to be humbled.  But then so did you.  The man with the
    perfect life.  Thank God I came along!  You needed me too, sweetie.
            And now here it is.  I love you with all my heart.  Can't go
    back on that.  Put that feather in your cap, Gallagher.  Another one
    bites the dust.
            Not so, not so.  I'm going to be just fine.  But you are
    going to leave me with such a big void in my life.  I mean, what do
    I do when I want to touch you, kiss you, love you.  How do I do all
    of that long distance?  Who is going to kiss my breasts the way you
    do, who is going to kiss my neck, touch me, make love to me the way
    you do?  Ask your computers.
            It's not only that.  You have been a great friend.  You have
    done so much for me these past few months.  You have helped me
    financially, emotionally, you have loved me no matter what.
    Truthfully, you have surprised me.  The way it looks is that I take
    and you give.  Do I give you anything?  Can you let me?  I love you,
    sweetie.  And I want you.  So get your beautiful ass over here and
    let me make you feel good.
                                        Lise
    - written the day after Lise's surgery.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1985-05-29 29 May 85

Wednesday, May 29th, 1985

29 May 85

Dear Lise:

You write like you are; every stroke cut from
directness and feeling. I applaud your letter and love
you.

Its a special time now. Lovers for a few moments
or a few months between our pasts and what the future
holds for us after we part. My sweet sister lover, it
will be painful for me on that day but now…, now I
only want to revel in your love. And what joy and deep
pride it gives me, that you love me!

I don’t know if you know what power you have and
what joy you give when you love. You wonder if you
give me anything? Watch me next time you shine your
love on me. Watch the pleasure fill me like the glow
of whiskey. The grace of love, unbound.

You, that person I talk to after we make love.
The one who sat on the hospital bed and smiled at me as
I wore her chain. The one who held my hand as we
crossed the border into Mexico. The one who said, “I
don’t like to play games, I’m not very good at them”.
THIS lady is the one.

Cut away all the details and problems of your
life. Cut them all away and what you have left is she
I described above. The essential woman, Lise.

This Lise, the one I love is so radiant to me that
I cannot see the problems. I walk thru them as if they
do not exist. What waits beyond any minor problems is
so beautiful I can see nor acknowledge nothing else.

I’ve know people whose lives are “Irvine picture
perfect” and their spirits are only shadows. Their
words meaningless birds in flight, their confessions of
love nothing but poor reflections of someone’s TV life.
They are so empty of courage and sweat and spirit that
I grow disgusted. (But I never can work myself into an
actual state of ‘hate’ like the French). And you, my
love, … when you say you love me it has meaning and
value and depth because of who says it. Because the
one who says it is someone I both love and respect
without reservation.

If I could never love again in this life, I would
be content to stop here.

I look around my place. The candle burns for you.
I look at women in the market and all I can think is
how are they like Lise? I won’t see you for several
days perhaps but I know you are there 2 or 3 miles away
and I feel you presence, like the candle I see here,
burning. Pleasure and anticipation sit with me as I
write this letter.

Love,

p.s. you told me you liked my poetry. now I may never
stop sending it to you.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —