What can I say about Him that hasn’t been said already?  No, really.  There are entire sagas written to Him, for Him, and about Him.  Go Google!

Patron.  Poppa.  Old Dirty (DIRTY) Bastard.  Sir.  He takes a great and awesome pleasure in making sure that things in my life are going ‘well’.  He’s my kick in the pants, teeth, ribs, wherever it might land when I’m down, if only to help me get back up.  No, really.  That’s one of the better aspects of our relationship.

I am not His wife.  I’m not His consort.  Those words don’t come close to what I truly am for Him, and to Him.  I am His _____.  I deliberately leave it blank because to say it, is to give power to those who would prefer that things not be this way between He and I.  But there is power in my relationship with Him, if there wasn’t He wouldn’t be my Patron.

There’s a joke I heard once, about a parrot and its one-eyed owner, it involved a freezer and the punchline was a frozen bird pulled out of said freezer.  With one wing covering an eye, and one claw raised up with it’s longest one sticking up in the air.

Fuck You, One Eye.  With all my love.