Barista

a poem by Roy Ruiz

I’m going to see you again tomorrow
And again, like every single time
I won’t know what to say
That I’m in love with you?
Or is it a passing thing?
Is it again that familiar feeling of childish romance?
Like a crush
Or a soothing sense of wonder?
Or innocent lust?
I want to taste your mouth
And bite your lips
As if from them I were to derive some sweet nectar
That granted me eternal life
I’m going to see you again tomorrow
And I know that when I do
My heart will race when you approach me and ask
“What can I get you?”
In that sweet tone you always use
When you ask your customers a simple question
“You” I will want to reply
“I want you”
But I won’t
Because I would die before I revealed to you
How incredibly afraid I am of finding out
That perhaps to you
I am no one
Just another faceless body
That you will never remember
I hope you never find out
How your eyes make me tremble
How the sound of your voice reminds me
Of a guitar played to perfection
How the color of your skin reminds me of hot cocoa
How the scent of your perfume
Dances around my nostrils
Your eyes are like rocks that shatter my imagination
And strike me with the cold hard reality
That if I continue in this way
If I don’t tell you how agonizing it is to have you near
I may never know what the taste of your lips reveal
On a warm Sunday morning

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