She glides into the cafe,
her coffee colored skin
simmering in the fire
of a hot summer night.
Dignifying the room
with African elegance,
she silently gazes around,
her wise brown eyes soft
above smooth brown cheeks.
She sits at the counter,
a royal queen on her throne,
and orders hot milk
in a delicious mocha voice.
Glancing over, she graces me
with a slow shy smile that declares
she is unaware of her beauty.
And at that moment, I am stunned
and yearn to reach across the space
to touch this goddess.
But I don't
because
I'm just a white boy.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment