later she
would
remember a friend
said "long after
he can still tango
no longer, your
poems will dance
on paper." Even
that one night was
enough. Black
dress, a tangle
around her feet,
dark sapphire
anklets. They
dipped the soles
of their feet in
paint and danced
tango on a black
canvas. Her
thighs an anklet
around him
to capture the
space, the beats of
a heart, throb of
drums, pulses
of energy
