[189]

The Way We Used to Dance

There was sunset. There was always sunset somewhere. Or rose-tinted glass bottoms, revealed by a final swallow. And music.

Someone knew how to start bonfires like a boyscout.
Some matchstrikes and a bit of heavy breathing.
I smoked back then, tendrils of stupid coming
from my mouth. Constellations lit the sky
and spelled our future in their heels.

That was a long ago. And last night.
I don’t remember how to get dizzy anymore.
How to fall down drunk, laughing, not drunk.
How to find your hand in the long darkness that
arrives without an invitation.
How to see what’s good in the flickering shadows.

I know it’s okay that we’ve moved on.
I know it’s okay that your mother never really liked me.
I know it’s okay that you’re getting married
to someone else soon.
I know it’s okay that you still love me.
And I you.

I know it’s okay.
And still, that moment the music
comes on and my feet make that first step,
I want your hand in mine, that spinning dip and twirl
of the stars coming home.
~

It’s August, MotherFuckers! 

Image taken with iphone at the dunes in Toronto.
Words written while waiting for a ride to the next hotel.
Ears On the loop of towels in the dryer.
Time Taken a couple of minutes through the hourglass.
Brain On the fact that GEEK LOVE made its Kickstarter goal! I’m so excited I can barely sit still!

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This entry was published on August 29, 2012 at 11:36 am and is filed under August, Poems, Self-Portraits, Toronto. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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