He’s a tall Mexican
with dark eyes
and an aquiline nose.
He has a tattoo
of a snake
down his forearm
onto his right hand
where the body forks
into two heads.
He is cut—
a brown ring
high on his shaft,
a smooth, rounded tip
exposed.
I ask him to grow out
his pubes.
He shaves anyway.
He holds me
but does not kiss.
I like to try
to make him laugh.
He is quiet.
I imagine
those dark eyes
are smiling
back at me.