Let’s Slow Dance in the Living Room Tonight After Dinner, Honey

More than putting another man on the moon,
more than a New Year’s resolution of yogurt and yoga,
we need the opportunity to dance
to no music in the living room. A slow dance
between the coffee table and the book case,
at the end of a challenging workday
after we’ve eaten the vegetarian tacos and refried beans
because it’s begun to rain and the rain
slows us down and quiets the dog.   A slow dance
to bring the evening home, to knock it out of the park. Two people
rocking back and forth like a buoy. Nothing extravagant.
We could both hum a little bit.  Do some cheek kissing.
It’s a little like cheating on each other with each other.
Your head resting on my shoulder
(or vice versa),
your breath moving up my neck
(or vice versa).
My hands along your spine. Your hips
unfolding like a cotton napkin
and you begin to think about how all the stars in the sky
are dead. Long dead and just cosmic dust
swirling like light. My body
is talking to your body by slow dance. The Unchained Melody,
Stairway to Heaven, power-chord slow dance. All my life
I’ve made mistakes. Small
and cruel. I made my plans.
I never arrived. I ate my food. I drank my wine.
I made decisions I knew would hurt people.
I couldn’t save money or keep my car clean.
I blamed others for my misery.  I hated.
I couldn’t bother to talk to strangers.
The slow dance doesn’t care. It’s all kindness like children
running in sprinklers. Like being held in the arms
of my parents.
This is the almond grove
in the dark slow dance.
This is the sun-dappled Spring meadow
living room slow dance.
It is what we should be doing right now. Scrapping
for joy. The haiku and honey. The orange and orangutang slow dance.

2 Responses to “Let’s Slow Dance in the Living Room Tonight After Dinner, Honey”

  1. Kiwi Warch-ch-chia Says:

    You amaze me.

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