Here is an excerpt from a short story I wrote that was published several years ago.
Slowly, with such nervousness and dread, I turned to look. In the doorway, my uncle’s compadre Rafael leaned against the wooden frame with his arms crossed. Blood rushed to my face and I tried to turn away, but I could not. I scanned the configuration of his entire body and there wasn’t a single flaw. His hair was black and the color of his skin bordered along the lines of mocha. His lips were full and I knew that if they ever grazed along the surface of my skin, I would lose all sense of space and time.