Page 81 - TheBridge_Vol16

OUR SONG

Elizabeth Brady

you dance like
you’re drunk
regardless of whether or not
you’re sober.
rhythm only registers meaning to you above
the neck.
you shuffle your heavy feet across
the concrete
and wildly swing your hips completely
off-beat.
still, somehow, i find stability
in you,
wrapping my arms around your
wide shoulders,
nuzzling my face in your oil-stained t-shirt
inhaling a dizzying symphony
of high-pitched cotton
and rounded detergent
and the brassy hum of grease
and under all of that
i inhale you:
the simplicity of a man
without cologne,
just existing.
you only step on my toes
gingerly and accidentally,
mumbling apologies,
mumbling that you can’t dance anyway,
mumbling that we could stop but
“i don’t wanna dance with someone good,”
i say, “i want to dance with you.”

Vol. XVI | 69
Vol. XVI | 69