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Corte Pivoteado

Pivoted Cut

By Tom FarrowPublished about a year ago 2 min read
Artwork by Magdalena Serwin

Quietly she sat at the bar all alone

Occasionally looking at her phone

Her dress so perfect, cut low in the front

Like prey for a wolf to stealthily hunt

The lights in the place especially low

The band a bit quiet playing real slow

Summoning courage to find out her name

Chances are low, I’m not good at this game

Drank enough liquor to think I will try

As I noticed her dress slide up her thigh

Took my drink with me beside her I sat

Bought her a drink and we started to chat

Conversation was light, spoke of our day

Her giggles so sweet I lost what to say

Such a beautiful face, body to match

Could I have the luck, this woman to catch

The band livened up playing some dance songs

I asked her to dance, how could I go wrong

Winking she said, “This music’s for tango”

“Good by me”, I replied, “c’mon let’s go”

She jumped from her seat taking my left hand

To the floor we went, to wait on the band

Whispered in her ear, “Argentine tango?”

“Sure”, smiling she said, “Let’s give it a go”

The band prepared the next composition

We went on the floor, we’re in position

My hand on her back her left hand in mine

In my arms a girl so perfectly fine

Just seconds we waited our dance to start

Seemed like longer counting beats of my heart

Her perfume so fine and chills down my spine

Her breasts against me with blue eyes that shine

At last music began our steps in time

Like two souls became one flowing like wine

Her steps closer than my usual partner

As a good dancer she seemed much smarter

“Corte pivoteado?”, I inquired

She nodded yes, yes it is so desired

As the song climaxed I spun her around

Bent her back to my knee, heaven I’d found

The few in the bar all stood to applaud

Likewise the band with big smiles so broad

We took a small bow as we left the floor

Then began shouts, “We want some more, more, more!”

Returned to our stools to sit at the bar

“Amazing!”, I said, “This is great so far”

“I must leave”, she whispered softly to me

While she kissed my cheek, her hand on my knee

With that she was gone and I don’t know where

She obviously did not like it there

I’ve never been back to that old saloon

I’ll forget it some day, but not real soon

love poems

About the Creator

Tom Farrow

A retired truck driver writing poetry that rolled around in my head for many years.

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