Jeanpaul Ferro
We dance a little to Sérgio de Pinna after dinner, head on up to the beach,
We lie on the sand together (where we had been twenty years before),
We kiss, and her lips taste like I had remembered –
A white sheet, a bright lime, a dozen dogs barking in the distance,
I don’t know what to say – I want to say something,
I write these lines down in my head, they kick at me in my chest:
The night is blue, and it sweeps all around us, it is blue like Cuba is blue,
The touch of her hand haunts me, my soul is opening like it is morning,
I stare at her eyes as I say this to myself; I know her, and she knows me too;
We don’t say anything, because there is too much to say between us,
She hands me a pair of gloves; of course, they are his gloves;
I know he is somewhere waiting for her, wondering about her, about me,
You unlucky man, I think to myself, You stupid man;
She smiles at me; we hear the waves, we kiss again –
Recuerdo II
Hernando Rico Sanchez