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When people say the word dating I think of; candlelit dinners in fancy restaurants or a romantic comedy in the cinema or even going bowling.I’d class those three events as possible date locations.My, my, body, mind and heart together tug at me to keep you another minute, entice you into a wordless kind of play. Hush time with me; watch how these tectonic plates lock, drift, whirl around each other. Just at the thought of it, a denial more overwhelming than submission.But you leave too soon; the impossible closeness of an us caves my lungs inwards.But, since I have now explained that, I will use the word “dating” to describe that engagement or interaction of a romantic and/or sexual nature.
You make towards departure; our exclamations stammer mid-sentence. And of course I always say this to myself when someone new comes along and he doesn’t fit into this ideal that I have created. Actually, we met last year, texted for a few weeks, then stopped talking. Until next time, I’m just a Southern girl…in the city! I hate when you meet someone new and you have to figure each other out – your quirks, what makes him tick, what you like about him, WHY you like him, etc. If anyone knows me and appreciates my quirks, it’s him.Name (real or made-up): Dusty Foot Diaspora since…: 2009 Your absence is an assault on my solitude.Like the gloom of an untimely loss, it casts itself over me absolutely. Long-subdued rainbow colors explode into a hyper-reality as I speak a word, you breathe another and a sentence comes out dancing to its own rhythm.