He wordlessly reached out his hand,
this t-shirt clad and quiet man,
as he led me gently to the floor
I couldn’t help but wonder
how exactly this would go,
whether he would or wouldn’t know
how to lead me through turns and twists and steps
and correctly dip me under.
My lies about love grew bold and loud
floating round my hair like a rain cloud
and when he pulled me into his stance
the cloud clapped angry thunder.
But in a moment still and clear
I looked at him and saw no fear
a gaze free of calculation
tore my lies asunder.
The steps we took at first were slow
till both were sure how it would go
and surer, surer still we stepped
till feeling just took over.
Soon enough the cloud had cleared,
my shoes had up and disappeared!
and onlookers to my laughing glow
would scarcely guess me sober!
Through spins and strides and turns and dips
of brightly swinging salsa hips
my unexpected gallant man
did lead and pause and hover.
The flush rose to my warming cheeks
as feet matched latin dips and peaks
and spanish sang out on the breeze
until the song was over.
My fluid partner, strong and true
kissed my hand and said “thank you”
and as he walked into the night
I shrank into familiar cover.
The choice was mine – I could resume
the lies that had foretold our gloom
or bask in the remaining glow
of my Cuban dance-floor lover.