You danced regardless if heartbreak and catastrophe stood at the gates. You declared love was worth it. You kicked one foot back then another—to advance. Hips leading the way. You turned, the center of the universe, moved with the sunlight.
You danced to an iconic love song in the mirror, swiveling your feet across heaven’s carpet. You turned yourself on. I laughed. You had to simmer yourself down. Face in your hands, shaking out your angel hair brushing your bare shoulders, you rose. “Love, Maria, love.”
You were ready to make love at any time.
Over to the full-length mirror, now, it was time to take it to the next level: full picture. You took off your shirt after all this is how you changed your clothes. You were married, baby. One foot back, then the other. In your bra and jeans, clapping, bouncing.
One foot back, the hip a socket, forward.
I clapped; you danced so beautifully. I sat on the edge of your white bed, a little girl. I was relieved that sex was good, that you danced so sexy. That you laughed. Always. At your own heat. Your love for love.
I got so little, you know. During these years. I wasn’t your kid, but you crossed your white bedroom to the swell—a man who loves a woman in red—to tell me how making love was marvelous, just marvelous. I had to, just had to… have sex in the ocean one day. She couldn’t even describe it—one day. “Was it cold?” I was four, five. “You won’t give a shit, believe me.”
Swiveling down, your arms in the air, your son abruptly appeared. “Mom,” is dancing with me. You stepped back on cheek to cheek. You ignored your children. There’s nobody here. “MOM.” It’s just you and me—what the hell was he doing here? It’s where I wanna be. Swinging your hips back in pride... There’s beauty by my side. You crossed the room in a really really good mood, your hips sultrily around his — requests.
“MOM.”
“WHAT?”
We laughed when he had to look up because you danced a touch too sexy at times, truly, his green eyes. All your kids had their own strategy around your heat. I laughed. You clapped, celebrated it all, foot back, foot back to a song I could never forget.
Back to the mirror. Back to dreaming about tanight.
I’ll never forget… your sexy dances by sunlight and candlelight. You lit Jesus and Mary candles, though you converted to Judaism. And you clapped, one last time… the fire in your loins… the dance of life… you put on your red sweater with your grandkids on it…
I love you, he whispers, at the end.
Maria Mocerino is a writer traveling the world and finishing her book, so hello from Thailand. Her work has been published in The Irish Examiner, Business Insider, Star 82 Review, Bending Genres, Contemplit Magazine, The Irish Examiner, Business Insider, The Candid Review, and The Ekphrastic Review. Follow her @mariaamocerino on insta and twitter.
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