Noisy Water Review

blood moon tango

Anjolie York

he walked up

and offered his hand with a crook of an eyebrow

and what the hell, i thought, as i stood up and

accepted his embrace.

close in he pulled me

touching cheek to forehead

breathing in his neck like a fine wine

i felt uncertain and

almost too tired to care

when i caught the scent

beneath the dozen other men who’d pushed themselves into the fabric of my blouse.

and my step faltered in his soft embrace.

he told me

small steps

he told me

softly

he told me

just breathe

he told me

good girl

and holding my hand ever so low

asking shoulders to slide down spine

lightly fingertips upon fingertips

i traced stars along the curve of his palm

a strange sound catching in the back of my throat

the moment he broke through to the center

 

and when the last song of our tanda was spent

i couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes instead

i slid off the dance floor and out of my shoes and out the door

like Cinderella and wouldn’t you know it was midnight

as i ran across the puddle-strewn street

into the sanctuary of my four wheeled chariot

and drove myself home.

 

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