For Gwen  (I Only Remember The Dance)



My (former) dance partner has died.  She passed on Easter Sunday morning. She'd been in a coma for weeks.  She leaves behind to grieve her, a daughter  (my god-daughter). These are the bare facts. 

Here's another fact:  I can't speak.  I can not think of anything appropriately sad or fittingly tragic to unleash or to even eulogize her properly.

Sadness has not held its ubiquitous pity party or set up its lugubrious memento shop within my mind, yet.  You see, there was never any trace, tinge, nor a single touch of sadness... when we were young, free and dancing... Hustling, Hustling, New York or Latin Hustling our asses off, back in the day...  when I imagined myself to be the black and funky Fred Astaire and she'd Gingerly freak as one with me...
      This is where   I am   right now:

I am with her, there, at Herman's:
And the dance floor is about
To erupt, about to catch fire,
Starting with us!
We         are decked out 
In our club night finery...
And we are so mad crazy 
High on youth, and beautiful, yo! 
We  are  so  damned 
Beautiful...Even when we aren't 
Trying to be.
We are SMOKE!  So rhythmic and lively with our fresh new Salsa moves!
We are FLAMES!  Cutting a rug... and making a scene, our grooves spreading so infectiously!
We are HOT!  Our Mambo flows like lava... our Rumba moves are washed in sweat!
We are FIRE!  "Yes, yes, yo!"  Check out our transitions and this smooth precision of our dips!
We are LIGHTNING!  We are flawless!  So electric! Our turns and spins are winning them over!
We are just sooooooooo   freakin'    ghetto
My (former) dance partner passed on Easter Sunday morn, and sadness has not yet formed its scar tissue, infected my mind, moved around my soul... or settled into a past-tense memory... nor has it began its moody funeral inside the stained glass corridors of my heart.
You see... I am too busy
Dancing... dancing with her, 
And she is prancing  there
Under a mirrored ball.
I am entranced and she is 
Deeply entrenched inside some past life
Saturday night.  And together we are 
Hustling & spinning & dipping &
Bumping & grinding  &
Tripping the light
Fantastic like
Two dizzy disco fools!
We are young and giddy and forgetting in these precious moments, that Life was, is, and will always be this Great Big Unfair, Uncaring, Un-rhythmic Bitch! 
You see, we...  
Gwen and I are
Too damned busy
Being young and cool
And fabulous and lewd!
We are New York Lightning,
All smoky braggadocio & 
Elegant flame!
We are potential's spark &
We are beautiful again.  
This is 
The only memory
I hope to God
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There's more where that came from!