You caught my eye
as I sat down
the way you swept
the long cascading waves
of your pelo negro.
Lush, full lips
creamy caramel cheeks
Latin-accent
encantadora,
voicing
Guthrie, Collins, Mitchell
Cohen, Dylan
Feliciano
salty, sincere, subtle
sacred, smart
intenso!
Your brown ojos
furtive, focused, haunting
searching, atreyendo
in control.
Requests?
Some Latin!
Gringo, d’ya know how to salsa?
¡Sí, claro! (Well, maybe)
¡Ándale guitarra, Esperanza!
Habemos llegado, Eres tú
Aguinaldo, Pasodoble
more Feliciano
You tapped, squeezed
caressed the bulbous wood
delicate, firm dedos
picking, plucking
stroking the long neck.
Feliciano finale
(¿adivine cuál?)
thermometer burst
rhythm radiating the core.
Could you ever have divined
that this night
YOU’d be melting in my arms?
© 1974, Kenneth Koziol. All rights reserved.
🙂