the girl with the single-strap
black dress tight in the right
places wears gold loops and sky-high heels
black and backless ones, open-toed, strapless

when she approaches the dance floor
tottering toward a measure of taking him

for he is tall and thin and glad
a reed in a hot clarinet
a rendezvous, his body
catching the downbeat in a flirtation break

if only she could master the contra body
(a rumba dip similar to Tango)

if only her peek-a-boo bosom
could rollout-to-attack

the importance of form dawning
on her pogo-stick frame
if only she’d kick off those
as they say high-heeled sneakers
and let her feet find the beat.

Photo by Owen Zylstra