El Mayimbe El Bachatu

Once upon a time in La Escalera, near Luperon,  Republica Dominica


 

 

Dancing she’s thinking.

Thinking of Anthony.

Anthony Santos.

 

El Mayimbe

El Bachatu

 

Swaying hips in skin-tight jeans

thighs locked together.

A writhing serpent

aroused by The Bachata.

 

She is just fourteen

 

Machos with machetes

marinated in rum

weep to the words.

Y la guitarra lloroso.

 

El Mayimbe

El Bachatu

 

At the entrance

merano muscle rippling

his virgin white T-shirt

moves towards the girl.

 

Without smile

or recognition

their bodies couple.

 

Hips against his

rolling to the rhythm.

Legs intertwined they circle

without smile

or recognition.

 

Of what the dance is doing

 

The music stops

forcing separation.

T-shirt fades away.

Again she is alone

without smile

or recognition.

 

The Dominican way

 

Outside the dancing hall

away from village eyes

beneath a Mango tree.

A meeting

secret smile

sweet recognition

 

The magic of Bachata

 

In his bed she’s thinking

Thinking of Anthony

Anthony Santos

 

El Mayimbe

El Bachatu

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ifyouplease

the spanish phrase means the guitars are crying or am I wrong?
I am trying to find a video now, unknown street guitarist gitano and I cannot find it. but when I do I will show this video

what can I say about this recognition girls tambien lloran like guitars……

stormwolf

You paint a vivid picture. Some races are far more romantic and passionate than others, there’s no getting away from it. I should have married an Italian or a Spaniard instead of a dull Capricorn fae Aberdeen lol

Alison x