Cha Cha

How beautiful it was to hold hands and admire our fingernails and sling our arms around each other lazily, eyelids heavy, because the night was no longer young and the tequila felt smoother than usual and we had simply stopped counting. 

The red lights of Cha Cha Lounge found the shimmer on your cheeks and never let it go.

Sometimes we have no use for words between our lips. 

one met gaze,

two last sips,

four steps out the door and we are running free,

all three;

There’s nowhere else to go but the taco truck.