Between the first and second song of the tanda,
they’re fighting,
a tango fight.
He whispers into her hair,
you’re better than this,
better than when you dance with him.
Dance like you mean it!
She sets her jaw and through her teeth, whispers
knock it off.
If you don’t want to dance with me,
don’t ask me.
The next song begins,
they loosen their muscles
sizing each other up,
like fighters,
rocking slightly, side-to-side
they connect.
Her eyes are squeezed shut,
as they take off.
He leads a boleo
which she ignores,
pressing her foot to the ground.
She growls at him, there’s no room.
He leads giros too fast for her to follow,
She misses a step,
but he’s already moving on.
She has to trot for a few steps
to get back in line with his chest.
She whispers, stop it!
his answer, I like to see your hair move.
Another pause between songs.
They’re both breathing hard,
and they have not let go of one another.
If I can’t be there in time,
wait for me!
No, he answers in low tones.
When I lead it, you get there!
Another song begins.
They release each other to re-align,
breathing deep, they sway together,
Close their watering eyes.
Synchronized now, they lower their bodies slightly
for the more challenging music,
and reconnect.
Once connected,
They fly.
About the Author: Mari Johnson is a freelance writer, photographer and researcher, turned tango blogger. When she grows up she wants to be a milonguera. She lives in Central Texas with her adoring, but non-tango dancing husband, two shiba inus, and a cat that is the boss of all of them.
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{ 3 tango-induced comments… read them, love them, and add your 2 cents! }
great!! love it!
Mari, please contribute more poetry, this is great!
Alba and Beth – thank you so much!