farewell white linen dresses, which dance around my ankles, and evoke the damsel in delight in me for every occasion i wear them. so long white, strappy sandals, who platform me up among the telephone wires, and beach combing helicopters, giving me that extra cheekiness and sass at cocktail parties and starbucks’ runs, that only a high heel can provide.
adieu to the post-curfew, skater boys in the alley, whom wind down their evening’s revelry with a match or two of body slam against my garage door, before turning in for the night or passing out on the front lawn—whichever comes first.
cheerio to the tourists and their beach-clogging traffic. i won’t miss your ignorant driving styles down on the one-way streets of the peninsula, but i will be sad to see your kind, midwestern mannerly ways return back home.
tonight the honeysuckle and jasmine candles take their final, curtain call; filling the house one last time with their sweet, delicate floral aroma. this summer the whole house has smelled like one honeyed, southern belle, blossom. it smells like walking into a low-country plantation summer house. hoop skirts are optional.
we’ll continue to dine outside as long as the weather permits, but the playlist will change after tonight.
gone are the seductive, sultry ballads of this hot season. the kind of songs that find hunkiest and i slow dancing impromptu, cheek to cheek, in the laundry room.
although we’ve made the best of it, i’m ready to escort this summer on her way. she has kicked my ass emotionally.
how about you?
here’s one last dance for you m’loves: A Thousand Kisses Deep by leonard cohen.
happy labor day.