Missed Connections in Boston
The growl in the rhythm, the hunger in the beat, thoughts turned to frenzy wanting carnal heat. The music quickens, the pulse wants increase, the drums desire a succulent release. Thoughts turn wild, linger, then die; you make them come undone at every wayward rise and sigh. The memory still echoes, certain images collide, of a molten pair that fluctuated with the tide. That dance of desire, not close enough to you, creates the perfect rumba, the risqué games between two. The tango a tangle with the pass of time, and only thoughts last of how you were mine. But, there’s a buzz of your whispers humming on my skin that still tempt with a quiver and seduce with a whim. So, if I talk to you, you have every right to blame me, but I’ve always thought you should know that I think of you daily, and how our passion was crazy, even while dancing our dance of woe.
The Rhumba might most often be associated with Cuba, but the style of music is also found throughout Africa, Spain, and Romani Catalan. Regardless of where it’s played, the word and its percussive rhythms have a common definition: “Party!” The partners in this dance play out a sexual cat-and-mouse game with their moves and gestures – which may or may not be continued once the song has ended and the floor cleared of its actors.