I knew a beautiful girl who could dance flamenco. She never danced for me but if she did it would be to Teye's La Vera Oscuridad. In a darkened hotel room on dia de los muertos. I would watch her from the corner of my eye as I sipped reposado from a cracked glass. She would be lost to the rhythm. Hypnotized and vulnerable. And when the music stopped she would be mine again.