ailene's casual mention of a woman singing "yayakapin kita, mahal ko, sa buong magdamag..." propels me to a memory, a wish, a dream of cool nights, hot lights, and a woman singing her heart out, twisting one's soul to pudding. my knees buckle, my breath quickens, and once again, i am among the throng of bodies bumping, watching from afar.
do you remember?
the woman's captivating voice ensnares me, and whisks me away to a room dark, but not blinding; hot, but not suffocating. the rhythm thrums, my head sways, the cold drink makes me even more thirsty, and our eyes meet. careful. uninhibited. calculated. free. mysterious. familiar. she's mine, and she never is.
an unguarded moment and a heady opm that floods me are all it takes to make me remember things i thought i'm past doing: dancing with someone. a kiss worth worlds. getting lost in the crowd. pulsating loins. a heart about to burst.
i love being in love.
(*photos from shutterstock)