What Do You Think Love Feels Like Once You Understand It?
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You were never big on dancing, but hobbies have to start somewhere, right? Here I am, practicing valsadão, perfecting the form while I wait for you to wake. Quiet enough for you not to hear me; I know how your ear is tuned to my footsteps by now.

Hmmmm ba doo-ooh, mmmm doo wooo… Do you still regret it, Luis? That miserable, miserable December? You forgot what love was supposed to be. Burying yourself deep in dirty liquor and construction, thinking nonsense all the while. Maybe it was our different outlooks on life. But what fool is raised to believe in God and think everything to do with your life on Earth ends at death? Maybe I was the lucky one then, growing up in… Nordeste. Mind is too addled to remember where anymore. Uh, raised by parents harboring a fury against John Paul II. I either sleep forever in nothingness, or live forever on this planet. So let's say it was, ahh, the lack of hindsight, that made you think you'd lose me forever.

Oooh ooh… excuse me for everything spilling out like an overwrought telenovela. Ah well. I wish they played music here. The kind to dance to. I still remember every melody and every step for every version of this dance. That's something mothers don't let their kids forget. Always cherish that fiery passion for beauty.

Last I heard of my mother, she was teaching kids how to dance for cheap. Wouldn't come to America. There wasn't enough money in it for her, and even if there was, what could she tell everyone back home? Her son became a faggot? She could at least understand that part if nothing else; that's more than enough. If she's still alive, I'm sure she would continue teaching. Maybe she's learned some English by now. Perhaps she would love to hear I still speak Portuguese too. It's like training wheels after all.

To think, had we never been locked up, we could have started our own dance studio. Luis e Altair, o dançarino escondido. I wish you had been taught the rhythm of Puerto Rico so you could teach me as well.

Aaaaaah… ah, ah, ah ahhhh…

A whole decade, and they believe that you're still dangerous because of me. I know better. I know deep within your heart and your soul, you're as dangerous as a dead mouse. But we're only at the mercy of each other. Committing crimes only to sustain ourselves, blaming each other. Hey, how much of that do you wish you could take back? Is life better here, or could we have steadied ourselves for a new home? Ba-dahhh, dun duh-dahhh… I don't think it mattered. Here, we're the most docile we've ever been. I can't even feign hating you for whatever you've done now. It's our honeymoon. How soft we've gotten. I don't even long for pills anymore. Do you feel the same way?

…I would hope so.

It's a good change of pace. A new rhythm for us. I am simply tethered to you. And that's all. We're no more special than anything else here. It's perfectly okay. Wherever you go, I'll follow. Try to work your way into Heaven for the both of us. I need to see something new.


It's too lonely and quiet. Oh well. Ghosts don't need sleep, just stuff to do. Bum bum hmmmm ooooh doo… Does it matter if you aren't awake, anyway? I'll simply dance for two. Vamos, menino! You'll have to pick up the pace for me later.

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