Dating comes in a vast array of colors
from pink to black to red to blue.
All depending on ones age and story.
I am in my mid thirties, walking with a cane
a growing child along my side
entering the dating world disabled.
The colors swarm around me
as I play my part
face to face with the Blues of dating.
I am asked, “Why do you have a cane?”
“What do you do for a living?”
Do I lie? Do I tell only part of my story?
I flat out tell my story
only to watch their eyes get bigger,
the look of flight settling in the rings
as they bolt away like lightening
during a summer storm.
I stand in the Blackness of dating
hesitant to step, longing to sit.
But I believe in love!
No matter if you are fat, thin,
white, black or even disabled
Love does not discriminate.
I convince myself to give it
one more try before I walk away and sit
from the qualms of dating.
He seems different then the rest
He touched my heart
during hours on the phone.
I enter with thoughts of Rose
hoping Blackness doesn’t seep through
staining my face with doubt.
I sit down across from him
neither of us uttering a word
he reaches over to touch my hand
Our eyes lock in one united color
I am bursting with the warmth of Red.
