I didn't know it was addictive,
dangerous as morphine,
mysterious, no, electric as
that touch from a stranger you
know could never not be
riveting as death. Anything
pastel couldn't compete.
Save the waltz for the blue
eyed blondes. I want a tango I
might not survive, exotic
as Valentino in a tent
under a desert moon, that
circle a flaming plate.
This dance is a drug like thighs
scorching, a duel of bodies no one
can turn back from. The heroin
dance, musky as Araby or rose skin
where some woman waits
in darkness, the tent flaps
opening like labia
sinuous as the
sound of the
word "milonga"
he covers the floor.
Any woman in his
arms takes the
shape of his
body. Thighs
inside her thighs,
the web of her
dress drapes his
skin, surrendering.
Her fans, flick
of knives, those
smoldering glances.
As close as you
can come to sex
and still keep
longing
it's not just the black
ebony nights, that
obsidian glitter,
darkness a matador
you can't resist.
One glare of those
coal eyes and
you're transfixed.
Forget about sleeping.
Who doesn't want
to go to the edge.
It's a taboo dance, a
tattoo of onyx and
midnight. Tangueros'
hips like knives.
Let your genie be
coaxed out of the bottle,
twitchy, staccato moves
as the moon clouds
over. This night
won't end, pulsing,
writhing in strobe
lights and fog
as the trance devours
until, in the light,
like Manzanita,
something blooms
from what seemed
so scorched
nothing could
not as well known
as the Cinderella tango
or the Little Red
Riding one. But it's
got more tang and
wouldn't you want that
in tango? It has arms,
there are always secrets
beyond the door. Too
many fall for ex cons,
criminals, deceivers.
What you think is
his desire could be
desire for your throat.
Dance with him if
you must. Let him
wrap his body around
you, feel his blood.
But remember,
be curious but be
afraid
Lyn Lifshin has published more than 120 books of poetry and edited four anthologies of women's writing. Her poems have appeared in most literary and poetry magazines and she is the subject of an award winning documentary film, Lyn Lifshin: Not Made of Glass, available from Women Make Movies. Her most recent books include Barbaro: Beyond Brokenness from Texas Review Press; Persephone from Red Hen; New World Press published Desire and just published All the Poets (Mostly) Who Have Touched Me, Living and Dead; and All True, Especially the Lies and Tsunami as History from PoetryRepairs.com. New York Quarterly books will publish A Girl Goes into the Woods in 2012. Two new books appeared in July 2012: For the Roses: poems for Joni Mitchell from March Street Press and Knife Edge & Absinthe, the tango poems from Night Ballet Press. Her web site is www.LynLifshin.com.
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