Salsa Night

If we could dance the Salsa

when you are unable to sleep,

drum our feet over the hardwood

floors until we collapse, breathless.

Uno, dos, you'd dance, tres, cuatro,

in your baby dolls, Cuban style.

Salsaaaaa! echale salsita, echale salsita!

If we could dance the salsa

when you are unable to sleep,

I'd make you mojitos, spin you

past the dresser, drink in one hand,

the taste of rum staining your lips.

If we could dance the salsa

when you are unable to sleep,

you'd mirror my movements, Guapea,

spin back one-two, forward six, seven.

In slippers, you'd be the ideal

height for dancing, make my heart beat

Amor Perfecto. You would be

a blur spinning too fast to stop.

If we could dance the salsa

the couple next door would complain

when you are unable to sleep.

Red silk pajamas flashing past the keyhole

when they knock on the door. If he

told us in Spanish how the noise

kept them up at night, I'd tell him

to learn the salsa, entice his

girl with Neruda and dancing.

She'd never want to sleep again.