Havana

Let’s go somewhere together.

Somewhere faraway, forbidden. Let’s let it be a secret. Our travels will be difficult and our rewards vast.

Let’s go to Havana and walk the worn, potholed streets, letting the boisterous Caribbean Spanish wash over us. Our conversations will be private, coded.

Let’s wander down too-narrow alleys lined with grates and flowery window boxes. Press me against the cement and lift my dress. Let me feel your urgent desire.

Let’s stop and stare at the sea, watching the waves pound on the sand. I want to sit with you on a patio clouded with hazy sweet cigar smoke and drink rum. The music will be strange and alive, slowly throbbing. I want your shirt mostly unbuttoned and your hand up my dress.

Later, I want you to fuck me in tune with the drumbeats.

I want to be with you in the harsh reality of children shrieking and paint-chipped old churches. I want to stand with you under the blazing sun and know you. I want to be a fugitive with you.

2 comments

  1. Buddha says:

    This is fantastic…