It’s the way you smile at me when I ask you to dance. You must like me. Or the way I Kizomba. It’s definitely the way you Kizomba.
Nevertheless, dancing with you is a cause of euphoria.
It’s the way you fall in my arms, you are a pleasure to hold so close and it feels like you know what I’m about to do next. ESP. I dig that.
Even though you surrender, you know how to carry your self. Your body movements are subtle. Your feel, follow and flow is on point. And that pedicure. I like.
But it’s that feeling. Lady. That feeling. Synergy cannot be faked, only felt, and again I say it’s euphoria. A celebration of sight, sound, smell and touch.
Come here let me hold you, let’s Kizomba again. Is that a trace of 212?
Your confidence is appealing, contagious, addictive. I want more. I’ll be back next Sunday (and Monday) with the expectation that you will be there. Lady. Be there.
Lose yourself to dance 