Lunch
at the Full Moon Café
Thin sheets of rain flooded the
sidewalks, the streets, pulled us
inside the Full Moon Café.
It could have been
anywhere, with its choice of
quesadillas, wraps, brie and apple
salad, and mellow coffee
steaming from stone mugs
made by our
waitress
but walking through the puddles
towards the Full Moon café,
one body leaning into the other,
against a determined rain, created
an opening
he brushed my hand and
smiled at me as he did in
the beginning when my
legs would tremble at his
touch.
returning us to a moment in time,
deep into sense memory, one
more to pull out and dust off
when we settle back into our
lives
and forget the sweetness of
a rich cup of coffee, as we
looked out at a spring rain.
the dancer is poised to begin.
her back rigid, arms in position,
hands ready for munacas, feet
anchored , she waits to begin
her footwork slowly
each tap, tap ,tap ,tap
gentle, distinct, one
speaking to the next,
building cadence, capas
growing insistent, growing
louder, a quickening heartbeat
finding its pace
I am deep within you,
I dare you to find me,
I dare you to feel my rhythm,
she whispers
her kindling smolders,
rising up within her
almost ready
to set her ablaze
her arms dance, castanets
clap, hands and feet click
punta to heel, in a
synchronized fury
ella sabe quien es,
she knows who she is
an enigmatic smile
crosses her radiant face
she is no longer tame.
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