It is Yummy's fault. He wrote me words this morning before his plane trip that stirred me...Like a gypsy in camp by firelight, I want to dance and express the music, the history of my current being and the lives before. Castanets are lovingly bound in my hands so they can keep time with my heart as my feet move closer to the fire built by camp followers. They clap their hands to accompany me as they too feel the primordial beat of the music. A trickle of perspiration cascades down my temple and continues meandering down to the space where my heart would be. I continue to dance. Tu eres mi sueño real.
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