partner

Monday Dance

I tell, “How does my nipple taste?”

He pauses, looks at me, “It’s…They would have to invent a new word...”

I laugh and blush.

And if I should ask…

I smile.

Sometimes, he would simply stop the car and we would step out onto the middle of the deserted road---
laughing into silly bopping and flapping
unto smiling as we slow to a dance.

Sometimes, he would simply stop the car and we would step out onto the middle of the deserted road----
he watches me
as I spin with my arms to the night sky
and sway to a stop:

Sometimes I hold out my hand.
Sometimes he holds out his hand.

Sometimes we move together and just dance.