I look into his face and he looks back. I look into his eyes and they look back at mine. Then they look down at my mouth so I look at his mouth, then back to his eyes then, backing up, at his whole face. I think, Who? Who are you? His head tilts to one side.
I say, “Who are you?”
"What do you mean?"
I look at his eyes again, deeper. Can’t tell who he is, what he thinks.
"What?" he says. I look at his mouth.
"I’m just wondering," I say and go wandering across his face. Study the chin line. It’s shaped like a persimmon.
It’s funny how the type of music I listen to reflects the different phases in my life. Like, a few years ago my older cousin Cathy said all I listened to was weed smoking music. That was when I was into Goodie Mob and Outkast heavy after leaving school in the South. And, Mary Jane and I had become to know each other pretty damn well. I realized that I have only been listening to sad love songs recently. Lol. Not even R&B, like anything with smooth sounds and lyrics that hit me straight in the heart. I feel like a geek.
Hopefully Jazz and I get close again, so I can float off to the sounds of the sexy saxophone.