What a Man

God what a man
I knew back then
with dark curly hair
and a scruffy jaw.
What a man with
beautiful skin and a
beautiful smell;
of nicotine
that made my tongue so
much like dry fingers on dry paper.
And an Irish accent to top it all off
what a man, what a guy,
boy did I want him
like a little school girl.
Stroke the hairs on his arms
such a graze I think he even shivered
once or twice.
When his eyes, brown eyes, look up,
right up at me,
so close together at the bar
and he leans in and kisses me.
He tastes like
all the men in the world
that I have ever wanted
dated
fucked,
like alcohol
and cigarettes
and coffee
and leather
and sex;
but he is mine
actually mine, all mine.