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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Just a Few Butterflies” Down in the Dirt, v193 (the 3/22 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology The Ice that Was the Down in the Dirt Jan.-April 2022 issues collection book		get the 420 page Jan.-April 2022 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Dating in LA

Nicole Bird

You look like a mistake
a regret with dark curly hair
caramel skin,
a twisty mouth laced with both
lies and jokes
and it’s all a game to discern
where your issues begin and mine
End.

We meet at the same dive bar on La Brea.
They don’t serve food but they let you
order in, eating greasy tacos and drinking
lukewarm domestics, feeling your hand on my knee
under the table, you lean into me and
I catch your scent, like spice and bourbon,
the smell I equate with how things
Begin.

It’s walking arm in arm down Fuller
to the liquor store you like,
calling you handsome and you smile
in the Hollywood night, the only light
emitting from the crosswalk
I almost feel safe enough to call this a glorious
Beginning.

Sunday mornings in Santa Monica
strolling down the boardwalk
sharing a plate of fries, salt hitting my lips
and you kiss it off, the ocean breeze rustling
your thick hair, the clean sea air wafts towards me
with juicy burgers and a kiss over a coke float, it
Continues.

But it leads where they all lead,
late nights and tangled sheets
emptied wine bottles, hollow like a willow
two of us on my carpet instead of just me,
yet one wrong word, one drink too many,
a tenuous beginning comes crashing, colliding, coalescing into
The End.

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