Tango Nocturne
Café Nuestra, Buenos Aires close to midnight,
heavy perfumed loud tango classic dressed of sight.
Am I willing to compromise myself in that situation,
two to tango after all, slow slow, quick quick, slow creation.
The slow consumes two beats and the quick steps one,
melancholy and romantic essence in a tied serious spun.
Out of nowhere a manicured hand crabbed my wrist,
gorgeous dark eyes with a rose in her hair, consist.
Closed position right hand on left shoulder,
my left in soft cushion of waist to hold her.
She is leading me by that beat beyond time and border,
giving me freedom to presume my stumble order.
Whistling and clapping laughter and pain,
sweating in pleasure by this love rhythm insane.
Nocturno de tango, she whispered in my ear,
pressing her body so tied for another gear.
Slow morning dawn exchanges the light of Moon,
and we walking to a near cafe opening soon.
Her english was very little, her spanish very fast,
and I wonder is she still leading me aghast.
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