THE UNEXPECTED THRILL OF SWEAT

In the middle of a laparoscopic cholecysectomy
the resident surgeon
walks over to me,
Would you please wipe my brow,
also the sides of my face.
I'm sorry I perspire so much.
He cannot touch non-sterile things like me
but I take a cloth and pat him.
A feeling flashes
like I'm mother of a genius
or wife of everything
I ever wanted. Something.
In my fantasy he is sweet and devoted
as he tilts his head toward me.
Moments later as x-rays are taken,
he protects me.
Or rather, I stand behind him
because he wears a lead apron
and I do not.
My fantasy persists.
Even amongst gallbladder removal
and the smell of cauterized human flesh
I want to touch him
more than he needs.