(for the den girls)On any given night, where the moon pale

(for the den girls) On any given night, where the moon pale and bright illuminates the starry and black celestial arch; two lovers overflow their affection to through their bodies and their words, together, hidden under the protection of Nicte, they look at each other intently and without pause. And starting with very soft wine and music, between the sounds of various tangos, ballads, and jazz sounds, the two dance slowly and subtly. So close, so gathered that their shadows form a single silhouette through the dim lights of the candles placed on the table. Hypnotized and seduced, the man embraces his beloved by the waist and smells the exquisite perfume that comes from her hair, a smell sweet and provocative; like flowers and honey, the smell of fresh chamomile brought by the warm and sweet wind of spring. It's almost impossible for him stop staring at it, he feels that it sinks little by little between his pupils, his soul like a ship sinks in those blue eyes so beautiful and candid.and wants to sink She knows it, and puts on a sensual and innocent look, He wants to play with his desire for a moment, just a small moment. After of everything, they are alone and only, for them the world or the people do not exist; just them and nothing more. The lover then decides to kiss her tenderly. Sliding his lips on the rosy cheeks of his lover, he whispers to her what since has always uttered to him. But this time, his whisper makes her tremble and almost inertia, hugs him tightly. It keeps going down inch by inch, reaching his neck, which he kisses eagerly and calmly. Hugging and kissing, they continue dancing to the beat of The day you love me Gardel; They, immersed in darkness, wine and tango, put their foreheads together and Despite the half light, they smile and seal the dance with a serene kiss and passionate. The music stops suddenly and the small candle flames, now almost melted, they flicker weakly, threatening to go extinct and give way to the dense darkness. Finally, a cold wind completely extinguishes the only source of light from the room and only the sound of silk rubbing against the velvety skin of that woman breaks the silence of the room. Soon, the sounds of kisses, The caresses, the pampering and the sighs will sound in the feverish symphony of passion, those symphonies for which many have played, others have heard and others, perhaps They would have died without having heard it. In the distance the bells of the cathedral announce the arrival of the angelus and while many sleep, others cry and very few drink happily, two naked, embraced lovers express their love on any given night. On any given night