Dancing

The whistle from the crickets was clearly defined by the obviously Southern rock music coming from a nearby banjo. They were obviously whistling along with the hot southern air blended together with the banjo which graced by a gentle cool breeze, which dried the sweat on my brow. I could see several insects dancing along to the music in the spot light of an outdoor fixture where they whizzed around together in flight. I immediately thought of you. I’ve always tried to dance with you, whenever I possibly could, to be honest with you. I like the way you place your arm around my neck and shoulders. I like how your hair sometimes gets caught in my mouth as I sing, quietly, to the song we’re dancing to. I love how connected to you I feel. As the heat seemed to have faded into a cool chill, shivers were sent up through my spine thinking about this.

All in all… I miss you.

– me

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