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Literary Art


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Dunnica Harps

Slow Song

You held me close,
Or so I imagined.
I might have been the one
that pulled you near,
bringing your face close to mine
as we danced that moonless night.

The dance floor,
once filled with energetic people,
had cleared when the slow ballad began,
leaving a few couples to slowly sway.

We too swayed to the song,
even though neither of us
particularly cared for it much.
But we swayed in each other's arms
and talked about music and bands.

During the uncomfortable pauses,
when we didn't know what else to say,
I gazed about the dance floor,
avoiding eye contact,
enviously watching other couples
who were even more close
and a lot more comfortable
than we were.

My left hand, placed on your back, played lightly with your hair. My fingers twisting in and out of your red curls
that cascaded from your ponytail. My fingers played ever so gently so that you wouldn't notice...

I wonder if you did.




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