His hips know the original dance

the elegant tenderness of a waltz
the swivel and twist of calypso,
the erotic flickering tease of tango,
the wild abandon of samba
the movement of storm clouds gathering
for release, the primal pounding
thrust of high tide

I asked you
Although my words were never spoken,
Twist in knots, I laid no rest
Painting perspectives of rejection.
You wished me gone;
Never know I'd circumvent your shelf,
I promised you a beacon,
In hopes you would realize in turn...