I put salt in my Dad’s coffee
And dash sugar on my fries,
“What’s the matter with you? Are you in love or something?”
I am, to my surprise.

Dad asks me why I’m staring
At the budding roses on the window sill.
I say, “They are such pretty pink flowers.”
Dad rolls his eyes. “Snap out of it, Wil!”

I grab my football gear from the garage,
The green Duffel bag that heavily weighs.
“Hey Wil,” my sister smiles and smirks,
“Aren’t you playing basketball today?”

I charge up to my bedroom to change
And splash my face in the bathroom sink.
“What the hell’s the matter with me?
I can’t concentrate. I can’t think!”

Then your green eyes appear in the mirror
As I stare at my own scruffy face.
Your full breasts and your luscious lips…
“Let’s go Wil, you’re going to be late!”

We arrive at the high school gym with haste.
Dad pulls me roughly to the side.
“Today’s the big game with scout and reporters.
You are the basketball team’s pride.”

“Don’t be nervous, just be yourself.
Try to forget about Christine.
Today you’re the Cougar’s all-star forward,
Now go and be that machine!”

Josh whips me with a towel in the locker room.
Greg fake-punches me in my core.
“Don’t worry Wil, we’ll back you up,
You’ll get a scholarship for sure.”

What they don’t know is all I can think about
Is your delicious, succulent smile.
The way you whisper your innermost secrets,
Your pains, your woes, and your wiles,

Your smooth skin against my fingertips,
Your vanilla scent in the evening air,
The way your hands glide up my bare back
And feather through my hair,

Your pixie-like laughter when I tickle you,
The deep kisses that warm my cold.
You lassoed your love around my deserted heart
And conquered my willing soul.

“C’mon Wil, focus!” My coach yells.
“Get your head into the game!”
I don’t want to let everyone down
And bring my school or my family to shame.

When I jog out onto the basketball court,
With sweat already trickling down my face,
Your tiny skirt flips upside down
As your cheer mates toss you with grace.

You land with your feet firm on the ground
And finish your routine cheer.
You beam your glorious smile my way…
Suddenly, I have nothing to fear.

You run off the court and lean into my ear,
Your minty breath brushes against my skin,
“I’ll be right here waiting for you,
Whether you team loses or wins.”

….................

“And remember you fell and hurt your shin?”
Christine says at our silver wedding dinner.
“I lost the game and the scholarship.” I shrug.
She smiles. “And I married the winner.”