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20 August, 2010
"He walked in.
Tired.
Hot.
One tequilla sitting in the dark.
Blinds drawn against the white hot.
The fan on the ceiling slowing to a drone.
They didn't have to touch each other to know.
You could feel the heat.
The Muses tango.
Like good sex.
They walked to the beach without a word.
Then into the Gulf.
Drunk on tequilla and the heat.
Back and forth in the salt water.
They drank each other in.
The muses tango.
After a month on the boat, his feet on dry land made him dance.
Sway in a tango with the Earth.
And sway they did.
Under the fan - in the heat.
On sheets wet with his sweat and salt water.
Back and forth
They wrote.
The Muses' tango."
20August2010
Author Ann
all rights reserved by the author
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Lord, what a good song will do to a person...
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