Herself speaks.
One thing that I have lost: the motivation -- or perhaps just the time and energy -- to dance, solely for the pleasure of it. I am working on finding it once more.
Let's begin with something popular, and far more suggestive than one might expect from a pop song: Despacito (Luis Fonsi ft. Daddy Yankee). With a little help from Google Translate, I have learned the flavor of the lyrics, and they are surprisingly... raunchy? Lascivious? Naughty? Oh, my.
Seems like a good place to start.
Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito
Deja que te diga cosas al oído
Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo
Despacito
Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito
Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto
Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (sube, sube, sube)
(Sube, sube)
Quiero ver bailar tu pelo
Quiero ser tu ritmo
Que le enseñes a mi boca
Tus lugares favoritos (favoritos, favoritos baby)
Déjame sobrepasar tus zonas de peligro
Hasta provocar tus gritos
Y que olvides tu apellido....
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