Thursday, August 18, 2011
Image borrowed from Yahoo
If you do it right, he won’t even notice.
His mind is always on his dance card.
When he takes your hand, turn your cheek
to his false lightness, his perfumed breath,
his glistening teeth. Step into the darkness,
then step back. Eventually, he’ll insist
you look him in the eye and laugh
at all his jokes. And you must, of course.
But cross your fingers behind his back.
Acquiesce to his charm and dips
with a shaker of salt.
When he spins you to the edge
of the small dance floor, don’t look down
into the pit you’ll notice there.
That’s his ego. It has no bottom.
When he thinks he has you wrapped around
your own crossed fingers
he’ll invite you to dinner. Smile,
thank him for the offer, and tell him
there’s regret and sorrow enough, but not tomorrow.
Posted over on his Facebook Notes Page