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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.

It makes me feel alive.
And I never want to stop.

— The End —