Maybe it's the way we danced the tango,
our arms gripped tight around each others'
torsos twirling and strutting down the
street.
Maybe it's the way the fragrant rose in your mouth intoxicated and clouded my vision and thoughts.
Maybe it's the way you grinned when my legs dabbled beneath yours or maybe
it's the way you smooched me after that first performance.
"Querida mía," he crooned.
I still remember when he stroked my hair and implored,
*"Please be my partner forever."