The music calls me Takes hold of my soul, pulls me to the dance floor— and I become the girl in red shoes, driven to dance through pain, through exhaustion.
Suavemente, bésame
But I welcome it. I laugh through the ache, move through the burn. I crave the sweat, the heat— the way my body forgets to hurt.
Quimbara, quimbara, quma, quimbamba
The drums take me captive, and I go willingly, hips in sync with the rhythm, feet defying fire.
What is it that makes me burn this way?
A curse— etched in my bloodline. An inheritance I never chose, but never refuse.