Ethiopia

Internet dating leads me to L.A.
To this clean-smelling airport motel
And you step through the doorway
Tall and dark
Jewish by ancient conversion
Shiny black hair pulled back
White teeth, red lips
Just like your jpeg photo
You kiss me on the cheek
And I feel for the first time
Those soft coconuts
That bounce all evening
Beneath your white, cable-knit sweater
We ride to Little Ethiopia
Sit in the back of this restaurant
Drinking red wine from Africa
Eating with our fingers –
Beef, lamb, diced tomatoes –
Placed on strips of pancake
“Most Ethiopian men over 40 are losers,”
You say drinking some water
“I met one in five years I liked
And he was no good –
Married, smoked, drank,
Ran around --
But he was a charmer.”
In the parking lot
I give you a farewell hug
And feel your breasts again
Crushed against my chest
I walk up the steps into my room,
The red wine still rioting in my blood,
I smell your perfume on my fingers
And sit on the bed
Feeling like a small fish
Swimming in your Nile.