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P I Watson May 2
There’s a reason why
dancing under moonlight is a cliche.
The euphoria is relentless

Pink behind the rising moon
Your hipbone beneath my right hand
knees clash to Latin percussion
Together we count  
1 2 3…5 6 7

Trading vulnerabilities over pork and pasta,
I feel, for one awful moment,
The pain of my daughter’s contempt
You reassure a mother after being kicked by her child
123...567

Supine silence on yellow grass mats. Faint from heat
I feel sad when you recount
how I charged your phone first
You deserve kindness.  I am kind
1 2 3…5 6 7

Your laugh resounds above all
A solo from the audience
As proud and loud as any Jazzman’s improvisation  
encouraging is all to do better
1 2 3…5 6 7

Earthy smell of your skin spread across the sheets
Curled up with tan litheness, I watch
green block letters rise and fall.
Wishing it was more than breath propelling them up and down,
I curse my own heart for swelling
123...
Meg Howell Mar 2018
Fragile hands,
Weathered and cracked,
Grasping onto the neck of the swan
They are tough,
Yet, all the while, their reach is gentle,
And they glide with the swan to the pond’s lively middle

Up

Up they go

   Ricocheting off the dancing beads of
      water
    
       doing the tango,
          
         the salsa,

            and, at last,

               ballroom.
Angie Marcano Feb 2018
Darling,
take my hand and
dance with me.

Let’s perform the graceful art of painting lines on the floor with every swift move.
We spin around the dance floor, that has now become our home.
Softly, holding our bodies close.
Not too close,
but close enough.

Let us waltz into each other’s hearts with every step.
And with every movement let us prove our love.
A love for everyone to see.
Dance partners that were clearly meant to be.

Let’s dance salsa.
And no... I don’t mean the kind for chips.
The rhythmic salsa that makes our hearts beat out of our chests and intertwine with every note.
The salsa that causes the adrenaline in our bodies to rush as we follow every beat.

Let us practice our seduction through a heated tango.
As we caress each other’s bodies and souls.
Intensely loving and never wanting to let go.
A tango that will set our feelings on fire.

Darling,
Dance with me, please.
One last time before you leave.
Äŧül Apr 2017
Come, let us dance right now!
Hold my hand and put the other behind me!
You take one step backwards,
And then two steps forwards now!

Then I will repeat the same,
And I will let you lean back on my arms,
You do so with so much grace,
Such grace that even flowers blush.
My HP Poem #1499
©Atul Kaushal
Jon Po Dom Feb 2017
Music in the air
Drinking, Dancing
Joyous laughter
Salsa flows
African Beats
Africa in Me

One, Two, Three
We feel free
Four, Five, Six
Moving to the mix
Seven, Eight, Nine
Spin her around
See her smile
Hair spills all over
A twinkle in her;
Eyes, bright
African Beats
African in Me

Love for our roots
A song that unites
All peoples
Everyone is kind
All cultures
No one left behind
We are all one
Thanks to those
African Beats

JM 10/4/16
IamMsIves Aug 2014
Baby you're killing me with your moves

Your easy gait and **** grooves

Oh gosh! but I want to sway with you

Be tossed and turned, my beau.

Your moving, **** image

Is in my mind through out the day

Yay! it didn't help the adrenaline rage

As in my mind with you I sway.

Oh my! but that body I so adore

Now I'm drooling so much more

Johnny Bravo, step aside, step aside

My man has a body that's driving me wild

With his easy gait and **** grooves

I'm sure ladies will come in droves

Shhh! but I'll let them in

And gladly kick their shin!

6.27.14
The result of watching him dancing salsa. And it's true when I said I will kick her shin if she ever drool over his legs. LOL
Irate Watcher Jul 2014
This isn't your mother's dance.
The wooden clave
seduces the naive  
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.

Mirandla.

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


Mirandlo.

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


Mirandnos

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 qUICK  QUICK...

...silence.
they shake hands,
and thank each other for the dance.
Gladys P May 2014
An upscale lounge well known,
For its ambiance and specialty cocktail,
Which includes live entertainment dancers,
On stage, in fine detail.

While a  glamorous female stood in front of the bar,
With a deep sea blue martini, in her right hand,
In an ice cold oversized snifter, dipped in sugar upon the rim,
Where she leisurely stands.

With a pink orchid,
And blue twisted glow stick, placed inside her drink,
Taking rhythmical steps,
Side by side, in sync.

Dressed in a strapless dress, slightly above her knee,
Nicely fitted, in shades of purple, green and teal,
Displaying a genuine soft look,
With such great appeal.

When a young man walked in,
And gazed into her seductive dark brown eyes,
Reaching out his hand,
Asking her to dance, as he passed by.

She was absolutely stunning,
With fair complexion, short black hair, a beautiful silhouette,
And a radiant smile, reliving her early days,
An unbelievable night, quite difficult to forget.

She appeared divine,
Upon the dance floor, mainly surrounded by youth,
Dancing salsa throughout the night,
And mixed melodies, near the DJ booth.

— The End —