The stranger in front of me invites intimacy.
His crotch is at eye level and I shamelessly
admire the shadowy dust that lines his belly
with a delicate circular dent. Would he
welcome my thumbs pressed upon his skin,
tracing creation to where his jeans begin?
His arms reach up to receive “Heaven’s Call”
he removes the miniature landscape from the wall,
piling the picture with the rest that lean softly.
He moves on down the row, I go back to sipping coffee.
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Notes: So, I'm minding my own biz at a tiny table in the Java Hut and this dude decides its a good idea to reach over my table to get his artwork off of the wall. I look up from beneath my hat brim and come face to face with the anonymous manhood...no "excuse me" or anything. Trips! LOL!!
Honoring Your Word to Yourself
6 days ago
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