Dove Dark Chocolate

i got off my trike and grabbed the pint of ice cream from my fender bag.  i fished out the two spoons; my mouth salivating the long overdue chocolaty creamy taste of heaven.  i can't remember the last time.  and wonder if it matters if i do.

i rushed to the picnic table.  there aren't many in this huge city park but they're all empty and i sit in a shady spot though the temp doesn't insist i do.  in my haste, i struggle to get the lid and the safety cover off and she asks, "need some help with that?".  i hadn't noticed that she had already propped her bike against the young tree providing the shade.  "you know i don't"  i said.

she grabbed a spoon and we talked.  we do it well.  she is athletic with shoulder-length dark brown hair and eyes that can't decide if they are blue or silver.  they make a sunny day look like L.A. during rush hour when something pleases her.  her 4'11" stature make me feel tall and uncomfortable.  i can get used to it.   she is one of a very few that can wear spandex biking shorts.  she knows it too.  i love her confidence most i think.  she is always a woman to me.

we talked about politics.  like me, she is staunchly independent.  we tolerate voting mistakes each other make as long as we learn and make them with more rationale than simple emotion or following the crowd.

we both are disappointed in religion and belief systems in general and are happy that our paths to enlightenment, though frustrating, are open to all ideas that promote and foster peace, love, and doing as little harm as possible.

we agree that sex and a lot of it fosters, heals, and is just plain fun for our time together.  telling each other what we like and dislike or want is paramount beforehand.  no guessing games for us.  silence fosters disposition.

when it came to money, we agree the simpler the better.  it's not what you make, it's what you spend.  she reminded me that money more often reveals than releases.  i was relieved she didn't make the amount of money or the lack thereof when choosing me terribly important.  like me she had been poor and and then "moderately compensated" and the money hadn't make her happier.

our time together on that picnic table was heavenly and i let her have the last spoonful of dark chocolate heaven.  ok, she took it because that's her and i love her brashness.  as long as her silver/blue eyes sparkle at me, the universe i will hand her.

"what is your name?"  i asked.  "does it matter?" she shot back a little fire in those unforgettable eyes.  i gulped and said "no, i guess not.  can i at least know where you came from and how you got here?"  "oh, sure.  it's fate that brought me here."  "really? i said.  that's incredible because i don't believe in fate".  and with that, she was gone.

i got back on my trike and thought of my next ice cream adventure.  perhaps strawberry hagen daz and hopes that a picnic table is open.