"Don't come in with me, or we won't leave for the next 2 hours," mi husband says --and he's right, grocery stores (any store, really) just always kinda pulls me in. So as he bounds across de parkin' lot, an' disappears into de store, mi eyes quickly flash to de car-radio, flash back toward de store, an' there's you exitin' de store.
I'm astonished at how mi heart somersaults at the sight of you.
You're gorgeous. You have a model's marvelous bone structure. (Even as de summer departs, you could use a tan, but whatever.) You're very manly, but there's a sensitive air about you that could just melt a girl and then mutilate her if that air of sensitivity turned out to be a facade. I just can't stop starin' at you. You come closer to mi car, and I say to mi-self, "Self, you've seen him before," but I'm still starin' at your eyes, grabbin' this opportunity to fathom just what colour they actually are.
You realize that I'm starin' at you, and it seems you also realize just then that you're starin' at me -- that we're actually makin' eye contact. You smile an awkward likkle smile an' look away, feelin' de profundity of our mutual gaze, an' de incongruity of such a soft moment in a crowded, broad-daylight, supermarket parkin' lot. An instant later, you look at me again, still headin' in my direction, an' de silly, fleetin' awkwardness passes, an' wi both laugh a bit self-consciously.
I sigh, inhalin' de sight of you, de seductive height of you, de lingerin' smile that is de bright light of you.
You stop at mi car-door.
You open it, and look in.
"Yu noh see how mi head gone, Piggy?" you ask. "Mi a goh inna de store fi goh spend, but mi left mi wallet same place inna de pants wheh mi did wear goh work today. Yu ever see nutten soh? Eeh?"
"Yes," I answer, "I'd marry you again, and again, and a million times again in this lifetime -- an' not just because mi luv nyam weddin' cake eeda!"