Our First Dance Poem by Edie Moy

Dance Dance
Moving along your body
I follow.
We touch we feel we hold we glide we grind
We connect.

Closer, Closer?
What is he thinking?
Why isn’t he leaving yet?

Smiling away
Swaying away
Soft touches…
His first question is NOT
“Whats your name? ”
Or
“Can I get your digits? ”
But, it is…
“Where you from? ”
Chuckling inside
I respond without a thought.

What is he thinking?
When will it end?
How will it end?

It ended when I had to stop
I had to go…
His last words were
“Whats your name? I’ll find you on Facebook”
Chuckling inside, responding without a thought.

Facebook?
What is he thinking?
What is he thinking? ...