tango why tango

At first it seemed provocative. At least. Then it changed. It doesn't sit still for a moment. It's ever changing, ever growing. Intriguingly beautiful. Deceivingly addictive. It's like good perfume lingering a piano bar filled in cigarette smoke. You'd follow but you're not sure who's perfume it is. Another sip and you're writing poems in your head.
Scent of things to come.

But first you have to master it. It takes time, a lifetime maybe. Bathed in the rhythm one may be confused if sinful or blissful. I believe it to be both. Pleasurable, treacherous, it gets hold of you and I'm not sure if it ever lets go.

This is the beginning of a story. The tale of my tango addiction. The words of a tango rookie in a new found world of music, people and dance. Should my posts to come be boring (vague may be), please indulge my awkward writing. My intent is not to rationalize but to express the things between my right and left hemispheres, to depict illusions and to speak the gray of tango and the colours between.
:)