18 June 2013

The evolution of an online dating relationship

I would have said no to you
but I have a rule
the -yes- rule,
always say yes. Cast a wide net.
In your message you sounded
a little self involved, and condescending.
I hate
older men
being condescending.

But yes I said-
always say yes.

My GPS led me wrongly and I was an hour
late to our date-
I almost canceled-
me: angry on I-75, to a date I didn't want, my little black dress rubbing my thighs--

yet you were so sweet and patient,
didn't even give me grief. I saw you in the light of my favorite restaurant-
you were short and needed a haircut,
a tailor, and a bit of that overconfidence you alluded to
in your short notes. Your eyes went wide and soft.

I liked it.

The next time we went
too expensive,
and not even worth it-
my oysters were dry and the
chairs were too stuffy.
But when we spoke I felt
comfortable and
We went to your house and
you offered me wine,

your hand shook while you passed the glass
of dark red liquid-
'Are you ok?' I asked
'You're just so pretty' you said meekly, and
I was in.

So glad I said yes, I thought.

The next time I saw you
I had been working all day-
my feet and head
ached, and the weariness was
all over my face.
You made me dinner at your home-
the little shotgun house
that whispered New Orleans in my ears.
Was it the steak from the grill? The wine from the rack? Encapsulation of gentrification mixed with graffiti and blackberry bushes?
You told me about your ex-wife, your mother,
your DUI and your writing dreams- your best clients, your worst clients,
and your dog who died two years ago.
You kissed me with your whole body// your whole soul.

I fell into your bed like so many particles of dust.

The next date was a pub,
and you were there in
physical presence only; for two seconds on your couch afterward I had you-
I cuddled your head onto my chest and
chalked it up to
a busy day.

Then came the picnic.
I packed up the cheese, the ruby ripe strawberries,
the carefully crafted sangria, and took my car to
the soft grass of the mountain.
You seemed despondent, distracted- you leaned in to kiss me
and I turned my head, automatically, unconsciously: your lips fell on my cheek.
We made a quick date for the next weekend.
I watched your car pull from my driveway with a spinning head-

I sent you one message
"Are you not into this anymore?"
and never heard from you again.


Some Girl said...

I loved this poem! You write the best melancholy poetry around!:)

Bebe said...

thanks dollface

he was a prosecutor :p