He’s still in his football kit,
blue and white, minus the jersey;
he stripped it off leaving the pitch,
after the match, in no hurry.
Eyes perfectly match his side’s colours;
blond, short around, on top fuller;
some stubble, looks like he shaves
when he feels like it on occasion.
I’m not particularly a supporter,
but he could convert me in short order,
share a pint at the local, all that,
then find our way back to his flat.
I’d like to see him from every angle,
yank off those shorts and see what dangles.
We could shag in union holy–
I’m just glad he’s not a goalie,
because I’m fancying a score.
T. Allen Culpepper