First, I'm sorry I'm such flake.
You see, I get so scared when you guys
continue paying attention and entertaining me,
even after the initial dance.
My subconscious threw itself at the first chance to disengage,
even though it looked more like I replaced you with someone taller.
You were funny and a fun dancer, and I'm glad you
and your wingman were so unorthodox.
I hope you aren't angry or hurt;
we didn't even exchange names, only dance moves.
You'll be out there again next weekend, I'm sure,
and maybe the fates will bring us together for one more dance.
Probably not, though, it's a big city.