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Jul 2014
This isn't your mother's dance.
The wooden clave
seduces the naiveΒ Β 
into suave arms
of the night.

Quick quick slow
exalts wooden caderas
and untames silky locks.
Wrinkled hands
caress the caras
of clumsy coquetas.

In the name of the dance,
vestidos apretados
replace pants,
which men outgrow,
steeling blue eyes
in rusty miradas.


Mira la guera,
como se toca,
como se mueve,
comos se salta el vestido suyo.


Look at him,
how he touches me,
how he swings me,
how his feet mock me.


Ella me quiere.

We are JUST dancing.

Ayyy, como me pega.

We're close, but Salsa is intimate.

Oooh mami...

Does he think it's more than a dance?

quick quick slow,
quick quick slow,
quick quick slow,
quicK quiCK quICK qUICKΒ Β QUICK...

they shake hands,
and thank each other for the dance.
Irate Watcher
Written by
Irate Watcher  27/F/Colorado Springs
(27/F/Colorado Springs)   
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