Date Night

Pasting together
pieces of an enigma—
your words,
wry yet weird,
send my thoughts
like a plume of musk-scented smoke
into the night air
where my fantasies—or memories—of your step,
dissipate into the mellowness of dusk.
The texture of your complexion,
and the surreal sincerity of that smile
haunt me with honeyed familiarity,
a freshness that dares me to dream,
an idyllic image of plans and passions,
or a strange step into a past
where perhaps we once clasped hands
proudly in public plazas
in a faraway lifetime
when we were allowed the luxury of loving.

Adrian Slonaker lives in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, USA, working as a copywriter and copy editor, with interests that include vegetarian cooking, Slavic languages, Victorian horror fiction, wrestling, and 1960s pop music. Adrian’s work has appeared in Better Than Starbucks, cc&d, and Dodging the Rain, and publication in Ginosko Literary Journal is forthcoming.

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2 Responses to Date Night

  1. I admire the hauntingly poignant image created by this poem. Well done: subtle and precise.

  2. Thanks very much, Stan. I appreciate the positive comment and the fact that you took the time to read the poem.

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