Furtive, forward-focused eyes
Tight, pinched lips *I can only imagine your bum cheeks are in the same strict state… *
Shoulders slightly slumped
Metro man…your body shrinks from me…its language telling of a concave creature, whose stature screams "CERRADO!"
Metro man, you are like a shop whose lights are turned off, yet the shopkeeper remains behind, smoking his pipe in front of the glass windows….fully aware that the dim glow beckons to passersby, teasing and taunting.
I wonder if you know how much they want to come and sit awhile with you…how they ache to hear your stories…to have the rich, velvet aroma of your stogie saturate their senses, sweeping them up in fellowship.
One of these days, Metro Man, I will get to you. When you are tired and weary. When your guard is down. I will catch your eye. I will cause your gaze to stray, and I will smile. I will smile unabashedly, and you will at first be embarrassed by my childishness---my inappropriate and brash behavior. Then you will realize you are too exhausted for embarrassment. Your day will have so beaten and bruised you, seeming to rob you of all joy…it is THIS day you will have left only the energy for embrace.
Blessings be, Metro Man. I await with joyful expectation, that day…when I can share smiles, or perhaps just sit and smoke with you~