In the dimmed day glow of the dusty jukebox
Walked a man destined to choose
The sultry song of his whiskey glass
Cinnamon skin native of ancestral lands
Gleaming intrigue in green eyes so glued

Sweet Leaf playing like amplified hearts
Eyes peering over my third long island
My barstool propped by fait
In lighting which framed our faces with
The pleasant possibility of casual conversation

A smile, the opening gesture
Small talk, the undertones of intense connection
Draws us to relate on a playground of levels
Body language, the foreplay of wild romance
Each word out his mouth, a beat of my heart