100 Words to the Oddities of You

I love all the oddities
of you, the oddball you
with your odd normality, oddest
you as the animal you
can kill with all finality.
You're the oddest love I've
begun to love: oddly fine
and refined as a cat,
cat-licking you, that platinum tongue,
that ravishing you, slow in
your Piscean fun (those fingers!),
the magic in your hands
to soothe, to hold, warm
as a cub in Arctic
heat. I hold you close,
keep you close inside, sheltering
this rara avis I seek,
this skittish roan; this dappled
mare is aware, and grown,
accustomed as yours to own.