Oh, well... sons will be sons
. I'm glad Mom had a wonderful time. Your son will understand this night when he gets older.
The lines I really love here are: [never mind... I keep quoting entire verses. It's all just very vivid for me].
Some particularly descriptive lines that I can really relate to, from having lived in the Keys for seven years and dancing to a reggae-jazz-salsa-blues-blend group every Sunday night from 9 PM to 4 AM... almost without missing a single Sunday night [no drowning in beer, but having maybe two Becks Dark per night, with a whole lotta water]... anyway, the lines... there are more than just these; but these really capture the heat of the dance and the night.
. . .
sweating from our core,
. . .
swayed with every beat.
They sizzled on the dance floor,
You could feel the heat.
I was quite enchanted,
I couldn't shift my gaze
from couples with their clothes on
making love in different ways.
. . .
Although I'd never learned the steps
My hips began to move
. . .
This music's boiling in my blood,
. . .
I entered into a trance
followed where the music led
But my companion's dance moves
were coming from his head.
. . .
gave my wrist a tap
signaling his intentions,
he offered his baseball cap.
. . .
With whom do I chose to dance-
. . .
And when I look back on our vacation,
I always have to smile
at the boy who proposed to make me
his cougar woman for a while.
I remember dancing with one, two, and even three people at times. A mere turn and eye contact would make for a partner of the moment and then turning back again, would bring you back into partnership later. We danced... men with women, women with men, women with women, and at times men with men. It was a celebration of life, music, dance, and each other. I loved those nights. The place was called Mangrove Mamas and it was as earthy as it sounds. Your poem brings back so many wonderful memories and gives me such a vivid picture of your own.
And, even though, it's not part of your poem, this is great, too:
When I returned the baseball cap, the guy told me I was a "good dancer", then we bumped fists.
Love,
Lizzy