night after night
past the milangos
not knowing his name,
his face, weight
shifting to the touch
of earth. I might
remember his arms,
his cheeks against
mine listening inside
the dance, my leg
wrapped around his.
Who wouldn't be
wild for a night
plane to Buenos
Aires? Would you
give up everything
for a night of
panther moves?
Wear your black skirt
with slits to your
navel, sequins dangling
from the bottom
wet as lips
