The Silent Explosion

The boleo is like the exclamation point that comes at the end of a smooth, gliding sentence. El Generoso's massive arms are clear about what they want, and when the reedy, insistent voice of Libertad Lamarque cried for her lover's besos brujos, I answer his invitation with an extravagant flip of my leg, backwards, knees touching, foot high in the air and then letting the weight of my leg take it down into the momentum of a forward flip, my foot coming to rest against the side of the other. After the explosion comes the silence, where I wait those eternal seconds for my next invitation.