I know it’s not really a poem, but I couldn’t help myself. This is so great! Thank you Charlie for sending it in!
He sat in the diner sipping his coffee. He could not help but notice the waitress at the door with the green tee-shirt and tight jeans. She was dark brown, cute with high cheek bones, smooth skin, and eyes that flashed seductively.
“Can I get you anything?” Her voice sang to him through an imaginary fog. He held her gaze briefly before responding, “More coffee—please.” She smiled and as she walked away her thick hips swayed with an intoxicating rhythm.
She was perfect—not too thick, not too thin. His thoughts raced with controversy. Was it wrong to desire this woman? Even if it was only for the night?
His gaze lingered out the window of the diner as the rain swam through the night—lightening flashed, and thunder rumbled.
“Your coffee, sir.” She smiled, and her teeth shone like a thousand pearls.
“May I ask you your name?” He asked as she took the liberty to sit across from him.
“Tanya, with an ‘A’.” She never bothered to ask him his name. She merely sat, enjoying the mysteriousness of this gentleman.
Deep down, she too felt a conviction for wanting him, but—for some odd reason, she felt a strange sense of pity for this man as well.
The diner was well lit and slightly noisy. There was no room for privacy. He had conflicting thoughts and feelings running through him. Now that I know her name, where do I go from here.
“What happened to your arm?” She asked referring to the bandage he was wearing. He explained about the accident he had at work three days ago.
“Your eyes—they are absolutely stunning!” She said as she took his hand and led him away from the table and towards the door.
There was an electric vibe coursing between the two, something neither had felt before.
Standing at his car they shared a kiss full of passion—like the lightening flashing around them. Tanya slipped her number into his hand.
He let go as his convictions began to fade, but a sadness remained. She saw it in his eyes that he was going home to an empty bed. Explains the pity she thought. Poor thing must be aggravating.
He felt confused. He felt free, he felt ashamed—relieved and burdened. Being a young widower, his heart still ached for his beloved—but his body craved release. Every face belonged to her, every caress gave him flashbacks of the vivid love they once shared.
“The coffee is on me,” she sang through the rain. She sauntered back into the diner as lightening burst through the dark sky and thunder hollered over the rain.
Hi, my name is Charlie, I live and work in Philadelphia as a cook in a retirement community. I have always enjoyed writing, but am a bit timid about putting my work out there for critique/review. I generally write about anything, but more and more I am leaning towards erotica/love/romance genre. You can find more of my work here at www.charlesjr265.com
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