The secret lives on

They speak none. Their purposeful "silence" is exchanged. The noticeable strength is in their momentary gaze, a communication that is to lead to shapes and forms. That is what will dominate their encounter. He takes his steps, walking towards her, she stands for him and waits.

It is not long before their bodies accentuate the notes and the rhythms of each song in soothing movements in harmony, enticing one another further and closer. Their moves display and play with invitations and challenges, temptation, excitement, and feelings. All still too careful, young, raw and tender. With another song the selfish pleasure zones where each had begun from start to melt and barriers are gradually getting ready to come down. There are openings for equally giving, and taking: sharing.

She can soon taste his addiction to tango as he does hers, it is closing in, with every move they know each other more. Her eyes are shut, all her other senses fully switched on. She studies him through him.

Finding herself at ease with him she lets her expectations to stretch beyond her norm. Her sensations urge and encourage her. Increasingly she wishes and wants some more. What she seeks is more of his gentleness; in touching and holding her firm she finds her own. Her ultimate desire is elusive. It is that feeling of security that she wants, allowing herself total surrender without compromising her stature and image of self. She knows this will only be possible if the two of them become dancing as one. Generously they share their synchronous beatings of hearts, breathing in, breathing out, the tingling heightened sensations of the other's feverish body embrace and touch.

She has begun to feel the reassuring numbing that is building up through her spine. This tells her the trance is near and might soon be on, this thought makes her lips part in smile. With fluidity in their steps they move closer and they begin to create life of dancing as one.

In a trance, somewhere between semi-consciousness and total joy, she is picturing herself in "the painting of a memory", one that is being drawn. Their creation is now alive in "the moment of Now".

With her eyes firmly shut, she watches herself dancing with him in the shimmering reflections that is projecting them. They are both certain that a secret is being born. "Will this secret continue to live on?", this echoes through the unfamiliar foreign words of another tango song. She confirms it in her mind; she has overcome; unabashed and blatant in the knowledge that the prey is caught.

Without doubts She can taste his tango addiction mixing with hers. It becomes the poison that defines life's desires:- wanting for living, extending and wishing be free and living without fear, fighting against despairs, reaching out for sharing of a caring touch, playing with lust, aiming for love, hoping to reach the very familiar ending that never has come, finding oneself being at peace, the feelings of being at home in the lands of unknown.

Would it last for "life" or is it simply for the living in the "Now" moments? No one dares to hazard a guess and nor should one, their secret is just born with the hope that it will continue to live on.

(Milongacat)