That was fifty years ago.
So? If I can remember, so can you.
His warm hand holding mine, another waist-wrapped, pulling me close.
We trip the light fantastic, toes twinkling, not quite touching the floor in our breathless energy. Spin me, I whisper, spin me. Then he is the snake-hipped youth pirouetting waltzer cars faster and faster, centrifuging teenage lust outwards, so that people fall in love with each other again, polka homewards to joyous breathless sex on rooftops, while nightingales croon and the twinkling little stars hop and skip in applause.