The Customer
At the other side of the counter she stood; hair of onyx black, eyes of midnight blue.
From lips of port wine but unadorned with rouge, came her smile, she gave it free. It hurled me back in thought to a former me and the young man of long ago.
Turgid nipples of walnut brown pressed their presence through thin white cotton, and beckoned me to be the fool.
Instead, I spoke a greeting; her the mistress, me the servant.
I delivered to her demands, then my heart stumbled as she turned to walk away.
I watched her go.
I longed for simple days gone...and for the younger man once me.
From lips of port wine but unadorned with rouge, came her smile, she gave it free. It hurled me back in thought to a former me and the young man of long ago.
Turgid nipples of walnut brown pressed their presence through thin white cotton, and beckoned me to be the fool.
Instead, I spoke a greeting; her the mistress, me the servant.
I delivered to her demands, then my heart stumbled as she turned to walk away.
I watched her go.
I longed for simple days gone...and for the younger man once me.
posted by Erik Ivan James | 8:44 AM
13 Comments:
I dunno.
Every decade of my life, I mourn the passing of my youth, but then I look back and wonder what the hell all that was about.
The younger man is still in there and the ladies know it.
Seduce them with your book, I say.
Heh.
Ah, been there, and it does seem to be harder the older I get.
"I longed for simple days gone...and for the younger man once me."
Perfectamundo. :-)
Jason: Thank you. And to your later comment; I doubt you needed a book to charm your lady.
Ivan: "....then I look back and wonder what the hell all that was about."
Me too, Ivan, me too.
Ric: Yeah, some things get harder, and some things get softer.
Tanya: Better be careful, Tanya, you're starting to give me a big head.
Erik, fantastic post. Don't we all wish for younger days? And yet, with youth comes so much foolishness. What I really wish for is the body and energy I had 10 years ago, with the knowledge I have now.
There is truth, Samdra, in the old saying: "Youth is wasted on the young."
Wonderful illustration of the lost folly of youth and the regret of wisdom, Erik.
The things one learns - that nipples come in different colours!
Thank you, Bernita. And, you've been sorely missed.
Heh, heh, they do. Kinda-sorta.
A beautiful post.
Apropos as I examine the loving photo my boyfriend took of me yesterday. It was a closeup of my smiling face and showed every dang wrinkle...and there are many.
Fifty years worth.
Not quite sure what to say to him.
Elizabeth,
Thank you.
What I see in the photo here, is a very, very pretty face with a smile that will cause a man's heart to flutter.
Say to your boyfriend, "Thank you for adoring me."
I see why you don't let your wife read your blog. ; )
Well put and I feel this every day, in every way.
It has been said that as we age the days pass quicker, the lines grow deep, we shrink in size and stature. Nothing brings this home more than the reflection of a gaze from youthful women...it pains me so, it pains me still.
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