The music plays, horns and bongo drums,
filling the air with energy and anticipation.
     I dance around in a red dress and a cocktail
in my hand, into your arms and you dip me low,
deep eyes and pluck the glass from my fingers,
as we dance in our midnight romance...

     But I know the truth, the smoky haze of the bar,
where you are, watching me...  you in your suit and
sombrero hiding your eyes...  draining your whisky
and hunting me down.
     As we circle like rival, animals ready for the kill,
but who will dominate this endeavor?  Your sombrero
or my spike-heeled shoes, dance us off our feet...

- November 20, 2002