I tasted red strawberries and high heels
On wooden floors
Mixed in with tribal beats and long hair.
The thrusting shook my torso with its
Hum hums and shattering beats.
Over and over again,
I woke up. I wakes up. I wakes woke up.
Her skirt whispering to me, love splatter
Like a trembling octopus
Or a love sick moon --
Cumbia my heart.
Bachata my soul.
Salsa my fingertips.
My brown eyes smile
To the drib drab of her curves and passion moves.
I’ll see her, me, us again. For a brief moment.
For one leg slice
...one fiery spin.
In between all of the sweet sweat and dripping perfume,
Did she also tell
timbales to eat the room?
Written by me, Lauren Hamilton. 2009 (c).