His name is Adnan and
I love the way it rolls
off of my tongue like
a smooth rich pudding.
He is a doctor of
internal medicine,
and I want to ask him
if he has any remedies
for a broken heart, if
he could possibly
break through the walls
with his rich laugh,
his healing hands.
He wants to meet soon,
spend a day together
and asked me to hurry up
and write him back...
I am as nervous as
a June bride and try
to remember it's
just dinner, just
someone to talk to,
and if I can
make him laugh,
we will be okay.
I'm just not sure
I can manage that
with those sexy eyes
watching me, that
black hair smooth
as a kimono falling
around an angel's face
with skin of the
creamiest mocha brown.
He is a demi-god
in blue jeans and
in his pictures,
the ocean pales
in comparison.
I try to remind myself
that handsome men
are people too, that
doctors are no more
important than nurses,
but if he were
approaching the
nurses station on
my floor, I would be
the first nurse to
offer her chair,
follow him on rounds,
ask him, "Is there
anything else I can
do for you, doctor?"
just to convince him
that some sweet
old-fashioned notions
remain and that I
am there to help him serve.
Adnan, I would like to
make an appointment to
try and win your heart,
or at least to gaze into
those intense eyes over
a glass of wine and
make believe.
Do you happen to
have any openings?
