The Man Who Loved Salseras.

2 Jan

With this brief break, what have I missed the most about salsa?  Without a doubt, I have missed salseras the most.

It is the sight of salseras, at the edge of the dance floor, playing with eye-contact.  It is the scent of salseras, the scent of a salsera, afterwards, still on me.  It is even the salty taste of a salsera, a stolen kiss on the neck of a salsera, taken with a grin, and without asking.

What do I miss most?  It is the initial tension, when leading a salsera to the dance floor.  The slight apprehension, the uneasiness, the question of, “How shall we dance?”  My question of whether she will submit to me, and her question of whether she will submit to me.  And if somewhere within the dance, she submits … all is bliss.

I also miss the tension of dancing with a salsera, and then seeing my potential perfect partner, leaving before I can ask for her number, leaving with just a smile and a wave.  Shall I see you on another night?  Or shall we never dance again?  Won’t you wait a while, so we can dance again?

Here’s a gratuitous French balada, “Je T’aime … Moi Non Plus”, by Serge Gainsbourg » and Jane Birkin »:


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