Random dance at a restaurant in Cabo
And… break.
Wait for it.
Feel his breath in his splayed fingers across the small of my back.
Relax the taut, feel the floor, hear the music in the space in between.
Smallest guidance. Barely there movement. Hint of a shift, my weightlessness in his arms.
Repeat, repeat, repeat. The tap tap tap on the door, the shh shh shh on the cymbal.
And back into the honey we go. This step a sigh, this lead a catch in the throat. This pass, transcendence.
A turn, the pivot point shared halfway between our hips, just right.
Must dance with him again.
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This piece was brought to you by:
from Eric (last week’s winner) via Lance at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog. Eric’s song choice? Peel Me a Grape by the lovely Dianna Krall. This piece is non-fiction, an account of my first swing dance with the man who I’m happy to now call my husband. We danced with each other socially for about three years before we ever really dated. For the longest time I didn’t even know his name… only that I wanted to dance with him again, and again, and again. Hope you enjoy!
I'm Not Writing A Novel 
August 21, 2012 at 3:11 pm
WOW! that was hot and steamy, sexy and imtimate..I loved the way your words were like a song, a chorus leading us to the end.
and the picture was a fantastic segway in.
you took that song and made it “Swing” 😉
August 21, 2012 at 3:24 pm
Hi Kir, thanks so much for the lovely feedback! I hope all is well in Kir-land, I have to go catch up on posts!
August 21, 2012 at 3:15 pm
awww… love it!
August 21, 2012 at 3:25 pm
*blush* thanks!! 🙂
August 21, 2012 at 5:42 pm
What a fun dance that was. I love the way you used tapping and shushing as part of the movement, but the last line cinched it for me. Nicely done 🙂
August 22, 2012 at 12:46 pm
Thanks so much, glad you enjoyed it!
August 22, 2012 at 9:15 am
Steamy! I had to wipe my screen to read all the way through!
August 22, 2012 at 12:48 pm
Whee, thanks! The funny thing is, I didn’t actually write it with the intention of being steamy, I just tried my best to convey exactly what that particular dance was like. I mean, dancing can be so incredibly intimate, but I often don’t think of it necessarily in those terms any more which is surprising. If I make myself read it and imagine it has nothing to do with actual dancing, it starts to get practically pornographic! If I’d tried to write something sexy on purpose, I bet it would’ve come out totally wrong and awful. 😉