Thirsty

I had seen nothing like him
Sun glistening off his black marble skin
A sheen of sweat
Covering his beautiful toned limbs
Wrench in hand, unscrewing the bolts of my reasoning,
I drool.

Surprised I can, considering I have been
Wandering in a desert among cupid’s
Awful pranks of my antipathy.
He’s a tall, cold glass of choco-milk
2%, non-fat, whole - now I don’t have to choose-
Absolutely delicious flavor making love to my tongue
And coaxing my throat to swallow
Share the feast with the rest of me.

“Hi,” I say.

He stops changing his tire, stands up to face me, and I catch a whiff of his perfume. I take a step back because I really want to step forward, preferably enveloped by those burly, toned arms. I ask for directions to a location I already know.

He first smiles then says, “Hello.” Damn him. His dancing lips show teeth cared for by lifelong hygiene curtained by big, dark, cocoa-pink, froyo lips.

“Honey,” I hear a man calling from the house, “lunch is ready.” He acknowledges, smiles, and says goodbye.