The Latino Question
Harps cling to clicking castanets, swinging Latino takes a flip.
Acoustics aspire delirium, you treat me like Salsa and shake a hip.
Rainbow across the sky appears, six years become a sixty more.
Saccharine sweetens with your friendship, with good times together spent galore.
Having iced tea on lemon grass; watching your graceful dancing flair
A rickety chair sways my aged bones, finally should I lay my soul bare.
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