With a scent of tango and cold rain,
clinging to the shadow of a ghost in
strapless dress. Breathing heavy into
a frame of bandoneon, haunting me on
the mahogany wax…Echoing stilettos
in silhouette, refusing to let the
rain dry. The wax didn’t burn her
breath, a ghost against the bellows
in the doorway. As the music started
again…not from the needle, but a
symphony, clinging to the ghost, in
a strapless dress.
Rated for Teens(13+)
A Scent of Tango
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