I don't dance. Unless you speak to me in Spanish

It was late, late into the moment when the music in the bar was no longer loud
enough to drown out the laughter and my fears that someone would ask to
dance with them.
I don't dance.
Unless you speak to me in Spanish.
It was crowded, so close the shoulders would rub and murmured excuse me
would be mouthed as the drinks were poured and consumed as I avoided
contact with him
I don't flirt.
Unless you speak to me in Spanish.
The dance floor emptied and I felt all the eyes turn around scanning through the
cover I was using to avoid the moment that had arrived as the drums hit down
the tempo and I begin to shiver from my knees down to my feet.
I don't mambo.
Unless you speak to me in Spanish.
It was cold, no it was so hot that the sweat dripped off the tips of my hair onto
my neck and the chills I was feeling was more like the thrills that the music
was sending through my soul.
I don't Pasodoble.
Unless you speak to me in Spanish.
Then I see you out on the wood tiles, the double step, the sway of your hips and
the thunder of my heart beats drown out even the Mariachi beat, I am all strings
to be plucked one by one until by your cautious fingers
I don't sing.
Unless you speak to me in Spanish
Then there is sudden silence.
Except the hammering of my heart and the tapping of my heels on the floor.
"Escuchar el ritmo- no te asustes, ven a bailar conmigo"
The world is a blur as my feet move of their own accord, gliding out to where
she waits for me awash in light and red- then she whispers into my ear.
"A life lived in fear- es una vida vivida medio. Si te caes te sujetare."
I don't dance.
Unless you speak to me in Spanish.

a small tribute to one of my favorite films of all time.

Strictly Ballroom.