before I raised my hands

but not in applause,

she was a live-wire,

pulled like an angel jitterbugging

towards the light of stars in a

wild nocturnal samba or

waltzing past the jaws of bats in

ball-gown of brown and ginger,

this after

bearing a plane-full of young, then

jiving like a flying tiger,

break-dancing on honeysuckle nectar

that ballerina's heart be...

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From the balcony I see her

In the composure of the night

The Bailaora takes over the streets

As she absorbs the mood into the moonlight

I perceive the Jaleadors and Jaleadoras

Providing the ultimate rhythmic Palma

She smiles enticingly.

Arms held high

Above her head

She looks so sturdy

So proud of herself

Her hands turn inwards

Then outwards

Then the zap...

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