Her poised prowess commanded a line
To the order of a small mob
She,
The perfect brush to paint a picture
of sexy
In colours of salsa and bachata,
Was worth the wait;
Open and willing
Subject to their wills–
They bowed
To her strength to follow
To be used
to make a thing of beauty
Flowing and fluid
Between their fingers
Passing through their arms:
To be held
But not kept
Like clear fresh water
Of a deep winding stream
A mezcla of straight lines
And curves
Subtle
Center of attention
She elicited tension
With each dip and extension
And as they whipped their wrists
To make her spin and twirl
It was they who became wrapped
Round her finger
Caught in her spell
Entranced by her entrance
They follow her
For the perfect partner to lead
© L. Ashwood 10-21-2012
--The Vulnerability of Sexy