I call him Papa. I don't remember how I started calling him that, but he likes it, so I call him papa. His skin is the color of sweet dark chocolate. He has beautiful brown eyes that smile and dance when he's happy. Those same brown eyes look somehow deeper set and sad when he is sleepy. He imagines himself a buff body builder when in fact his frame is slender and wiry.
He can get anything he wants from me. He rules me completely. He knows I live to see him smile and he takes full advantage of it.
He has four names, more names than anyone else I know. And still with all his names I call him Papa.