I don't Dance, unless you speak to me in Spanish (rereleased today)

the text for the e-readers is:

It was late, that moment when the music in the bar was no longer loud enough to drown out the laughter as my fear that someone would ask me to dance with them.

I don't dance.

Unless you speak to me in Spanish.

It was crowded, so close that shoulders rub as murmured “excuse me’s” would be mouthed as the drinks were consumed as I avoided contact with her

I don't flirt.

Unless you speak to me in Spanish.

The dance floor emptied. I felt all the eyes turn around scanning the

cover I was using to avoid the moment that had arrived as the drums struck up the tempo. 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, 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, feel the thunder as my heart beats drown out even the Mariachi beat, I am all strings to be plucked one by one by your fingers

I don't sing.

Unless you speak to me in Spanish

Silence save for the hammering of in my blood followed by 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 out to where she waits for me awash in light- 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.