Thursday, 29 November 2012

The Perfect Date

Imagine if you will.
The desire is known. But before the pounce, there is a courtship.
You can call me old-fashioned.
He arrives at 8pm. The car is dark. The seats are leather.
“Would you like some heat?” he asks.
I nod with a smile, and a hum from my throat.
Words aren’t known.
We’re contemplating each other.
Energy. Intuition.
We arrive. The restaurant is grand.
I picture Don Francesco’s. The waiters with style. The service of a palace. White linens. Elegance and perfection all in one.
The food is divine. We taste it with our eyes.
Hours pass. We talk. We relax.
The night unfolds outside. A moon in the sky. The stars bright.
Dessert comes. Some coffee.
Later, a visit to the lady’s room. Coats back on.
He puts on mine. Takes care of the bill.
The car is called.
He opens my door.
We drive. Up to a scenic viewpoint.
Laughter. Deep breaths.
The night gets old.
I wait after the car is parked. He opens my door and holds out his hand.
Gently he guides me to my front door.
I unlock the door. Our eyes lock.
A warm embrace.
It’s goodbye for now.
As my back turns a smile appears.
It was the perfect date.
If only in my mind.

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