The vegan at the front desk with her smoothie.....

"Please don't put that s*** in a see through container for all of us to see," I want to say. "You should try this recipe." She says when she sees me glance towards the repulsive green slim. "Kale, spinach, sweet potato and wheat grass. Delish and nutrish." I do believe she wanted to reach out and poke the roll hanging over my belt to shame me. "If you ask me, any kind of grass should remain on the ground; for that matter so should kale, spinach and sweet potatoes," is on the tip of my tongue, but I say, "I'll take it under advisement." Her father's a VP. That's my polite way of saying, "There is not a chance in hell your ectoplasum is gonna touch my lips."

My neighbor across the street with her vegetable garden.....

"Oh for Christ's sake. Here she comes with her tisket a tasket basket again." I say under my breath, not really caring if she hears me. "Hi!" My wife says from behind me." I

didn't know she was there. Shit. I hope she didnt hear my mumble. "How you doin Rita? What ya got there?" "Well today I'm happy to say I've got a bumper crop of zucchini and a couple of eggplant too. I know how much you both enjoyed grillin these puppies up last year, so I came here first. You can use them, right?" "Oh absolutely Rita. Thanks so much. Sebastian loves it when I grill veggies, don't you honey," she says looking at me for a response with those two chocolates that melt me into saying, "Yes. Thank you very much Rita," with a smile, instead of, "Oh no he doesn't!" I man can do much worse than a white lie.

Old Doc McFarland....

"I want you to come back in 3 months. If you blood pressure is still high I'm going to write you a presciption for meds." He just can't understand why my blood pressure is so high and why I keep gaining weight at my yearly physical. "So tell me. Are you exercising?" "Yes." I lie. "Are you eating a healthy diet?" "Yes. My wife see's to that." I half lie. When I am with my wife, love makes me do all sorts of crazy thinks like eating grilled zucchini and eggplant. And when I'm not with my wife....

My wife.....

"The extra weight on you doesnt bother me, as long as you are healthy." She says when I get back from my physical. I don't really want her to shut the f*** up like all the others, so I let what she says about my current situation go in one ear and out the other. She loves me and I really love her too, but I also love something she wouldnt approve of, that's the reason why I must continue to deceive her. Do you tell grandma that you hate her cookies? Same principle. At 34, it's just all so perplexing and disconcerting to my lovely wife that I'm gaining weight and that Dr. M wants me to go on blood pressure meds. "Don't they cause erectile dysfunction?" She asks with a concerned look on her face. Oh no way baby. Don't you worry about that. If I have to go on the meds, rest assured nothing could keep Mr. P from coming out to play. What do you say we go upstairs now?" Why would I want to get her upset and let her in on my only weakness? Does it make a guy a bad husband to keep one minor detail from his wife?

So here's the deal. You can keep a secret right? I'm really good at what I do and I never leave a paper trail. Wrappers crumbled and tossed, and baby wipes at all times in the glove compartment keep my car oil free. Here goes, and please don't judge:

Each day on the way to work, even though my wife has taken the time to prepare me overnight oats, I stop at Jack in the box for a bacon egg and cheese biscuit. 99 cents of delish. Yeah. Duh. I know, not nutrish. I've been hitting up Jack for years on the way to work, long before I met my wife. And lunch? She wants to pack me a healthy lunch, but I tell her I'm getting a green salad at the office cafeteria cheap, $3.49. And then instead, mainly because I convince myself it's good to get out of the building, I hit the dollar menu at, McD's, BK, Arby's, Hardee's, and sometimes TacoBell. The dollar menu clearly doesn't break the bank although I did start out with a limit of 2 items, I'm now up to 4. 4 bucks clearly will not break the bank and I have promised myself to stop this charade at some point, really I do, but it's almost as if my car just drives to the fast food joint on its own. It's not like I'm cheating on my wife, or am I?

Bursting and bubbling, carving glaciers between crevices. Lingering warm on rims of mascara drenched lashes. A sorrow; a sadness, spiked with hopeless anxiety that paints the pages of my ambition a wholesome white. A fake innocence made pure. To observe and absorb reminiscent golden ages, embalmed in fantastical dreams, my discolored tears reveal hope. 50% genetics and 50% society, squeezed out into burning, pitiful mopes. Contorting and crushing my whole entity into small little colourless drops.

My tears are the warmest of blues, and the brightest of blacks. Tears that not only pierce the perception of living light, but lie in the outskirts of humanity’s self-taught spectrum. Representing the bliss of originality deduced from misunderstanding. Having the hue of when I first learned fear, a crackling sizzle shattering a perfect bubble. Ash stained, they bleed poppies and dandelions in spring. Sprouting concaved crocuses in the snow. To bend the colour of movement, paints being swept into each other’s embrace, they explore and reassemble on my face.

My tears are me, but I am not them. They are but a washed-out, poorly executed version of my romanticised self. Little personalised sacks of pity-party essentials. Bulging, they unwillingly spill and fill the gaze of strangers. Creating murky pools of empathy that numb. Monochromatic in mood, but complementary in moments. Depicting the explicit yellows and violets of life. Scabbed knees and frosted surprises.

A colour not seen, but felt.

L onging for you to trace your fingers over my primed and ready body.

U rging you to thrust into juicy moistness, immersing with your hunger.

S tarved to draw in your remarkable flawlessness, into my awaiting ruby red lips.

T hirsty to savor your seed, I twirl my tongue around your swollen exquisiteness.

F uck yeah...

U ninhibited lust, arousal, sexual desire, obsession.

L icking you, gently, flicking my tongue, sucking softly on the delicate skin.

N eeding to tantalize you, so you may languish in pure passion.

E agerness for you to take my body, do what you desire, what I covet.

S ensually kissing your sweet lips, your eyes, neck, your everything.

S educing my mind, my body and my soul within.