Our First Date

I won’t take my eyes off you. I couldn’t if I tried.

You know I would be happy to just stay in. Or, go to a dive bar. I don’t need anything fancy.

But you wanted to dress me up. So, I did my very best. My long hair freshly trimmed and blown dry by the stylist. It cascades down my back and across my shoulders. I like to imagine that it would tangle itself around you. Keep you close to me, forever.

You saw my little black dress in photos, and I knew you needed to feel it in person. I zipped myself into it, which was no easy task. I hope you will be zipping me out of it.

You tell the hostess “two.” I think it’s a hostess. Maybe it’s a guy. I won’t look away from your face. I don’t care if there is a world of people around us. I see only you.

You put your hand gently on my lower back as we follow our hostess(host?) to the table. Your touch sets me on fire. I feel like my legs aren’t working properly. I wish I could lean into you and let you carry me.