Curves chiseled like a roman statue.
The outline strong,
like his arms.
His skin, yellow like mine.
I glance at the girl.
But it's the smile on his face I keep watching.
I know that look.
It brings a warm explosion to my gut.
So big it's hard to see.
He looks beautiful.
It starts from deep inside,
like a place in nature,
like a white sand beach,
like a forest of tall pine trees,
like a mountain view.
This is a different smile.
One I'm not used to.
It makes his eyes squint
and not just from the sun in the sky.
I envy the sky.
The control it has over people.
Changing our skin color.
Making us run.
Laying us down.
Controlling our environment.
And always, always being there.
No matter what
Even when we’re not looking.
The light breeze is cool on this late afternoon.
Blowing just enough to make you feel like you're in a TV commercial
for a new fragrance,
There are no clouds to protect us from the controlling sun.
We are both wearing the same sunglasses.
Except mine are blue on the outside,
and his are blue on the inside.
He and I have a lot in common.
And we are both looking at that smile.
I don't know if we are thinking the same thing.
I'm never sure what he's thinking.
His face never gives anything away.
Like a mask with no creases.
The band is playing a strange reggae version of ‘Here Comes the Bride’.
The original, I hear.
It sounds like a warped record.
I've taken to listening to records,
enjoying the crackling.
It reminds me of my cracks.
Some old, like feeling everyone is a liar.
Some new, like feeling everyone will die.
In the distance, an ocean under a watery blue all seeing sky.
The color of tranquility.
The color of peace.
A color so blue I want to cry.
But I don't.
I'll regret not crying.
Except when no one's around.
The table cloths are blowing to the groove.
It makes the song sound better.
It makes me start swaying.
Swaying, smiling and wanting to cry.
I do know that look.
It's how his father looked at me.