A Salsa Carol.

12 Jun

I recently bumped into a salsera, who was once a steady dance partner. Though we were sometimes out of synch, the connection was still there, and so was the intimacy. The more we danced, the more I wanted to possess her … and the more I wanted to possess her, the more I was reminded why I had pulled away. I was afraid that I would take too much from her.

For some reason, this got me thinking of “A Christmas Carol” », and what it would be like if I was visited by Salseras of dances past, present and future:

Salsera of dances past:

She would show me struggling my way through beginner’s hell. She would show me forsaking real friends in favour of salsa friends, while chasing after forbidden salseras. She would show me my id, running amuk on the dance floor, seeking to grindchata with salseras in the darkness of salsa clubs almost every night of the week.

Salsera of dances present:

She would show me taking too much from salseras, whenever it was offered. She would show me lusting after the fruit of forbidden salsera. She would show me as slave to the cornucopia of salseras, who present themselves to be tasted. She would show me as being averse to commitment, using salsa as a surrogate for a meaningful relationship. She would show me as a salsa gigolo.

Salsera of dances future:

She might show me as a lone predator, preying on vulnerable salsera, young and not-so-young. She might show me as being particularly fearsome when it comes to wreaking emotional havoc through grindchata or salsa romantica.

Or, she might show me as being the prey and not the predator of this grindchata future … at the rapturous mercy of a never-ending line of sensuous salsera, something like this:

Makes me hungry.

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