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I’ve realized that I can’t date in Seattle
because I’m dating Seattle.
The city itself.

The melancholy hipster who first enticed me
almost eight years ago with promises of
coffee, art and meaning.

I don’t live in Seattle.
We’re not ready for that level
of commitment in our relationship yet.

Friends ask me constantly:

“When are you moving?”
“Don’t you think it’s about time?”
“You’ll be so much happier.”

But I am content so far to keep Seattle at arm’s length.
We see each other often enough.
And sometimes, I stay the night.

Mostly I prefer to sensuously kiss the rain
and evening goodbye, driving away–
eagerly awaiting
our next rendezvous.

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