Adonis Perks Up the Blue Ridge Cafe

The small gold bell connects with the wooden door frame.
Its fairy dust chime announces his arrival.
Adonis is here.
The eyes start to turn.

Temperature rising as they stare at his lanky frame, stuck in wonder and lust.
Faded glory clings to his legs and darkness shrouds his arms.
A single silver chain kisses his neck.
Minds rolling.
Latte?
Colombian?
Chai?

Angelic Adonis never acknowledges.
Yet commands his audience.
Like a cat who jumps on your Sunday paper, deciding to take a bath.

I sip at my coffee as if it were twenty-year-old Cognac.
Side-glancing at the "god."
Ocean-eyes, raven-haired.
He finally turns and sees;
I hold the trump card today.
I possess his favorite chair.