Sofa

Four on the sofa, three dudes and a girl,

but only the blond guy is hot, sunk deep

into the worn velvet, legs crossed on the

coffee table. Bright blond hair that’s

natural, not from a bottle, feathered back

like a Seventies style, but shorter, better

cut. Smooth, light-skinned face, with just

a hint of evening shadow, but not too pale;

there’s a hint of colour on the cheeks

and a reddish-brown streak on the nose

from exercise or sun. Lively blue eyes

flicker behind lazy lids; he’s mostly quiet,

but a laugh shows perfect teeth. He’s

wearing regular-dude attire: zippered

charcoal fleece top over a checked

button-down shirt, slate-blue chinos,

grey socks and brown leather slip-on

walking shoes. But what draws you

to him is his composure, his not seeking

attention, his easy self-confidence

among his friends, all of whom court

him in their way—and then that stretch

when they all get up to leave.

 

Copyright 2014

T. Allen Culpepper

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