I just danced the filthiest kind of salsa with you

under the searing lights

the notes of music thick on my skin like honey

the music took off

and you half dragging me did too

I quickly fell into step with something primal

it wasn’t the rehearsed one two 

of the wood floored studio

or the childish three four in my grandmothers living room

the taste of passion fruit still sour on my tongue

while the gramophone played the raspy love songs

of another life

it was you on your third glass of Guatemalan rum

and me dying to prove I belong here

so I went up on the tips of my toes

and kept my legs moving like a shuttle on a loom

and my hips swaying under the turn of your wrist

you moved under my finger tips like light through water

and I laughed as I followed you

the skirt of my dress floating up up

the skin of my thighs 

I felt like a woman under your hand

and when it ended

I shivered 

because I wanted to go back to your beach side apartment

and fill my mouth with the taste of Guatemalan rum