Mediterranean breeze warmed my dreams;
cappuccino mornings blended
into Bacardi sunsets.
Tobacco smoulders and I remember-
his name was Cristian Rosas.
Sunset passed. Spirits poured
European measures- unlike tight English twenty-five mil,
relieving the throbs of snow white turned red queen.
The glow led our intoxicated journey. Sambuca fused.
We invaded the dance floor.
blue, red, green
green merged with smiles.
Freedom spun me to his arms.
Giggles blushed sunburn. Cristian Rosas
whispered his name.
Fingers caressed my shoulder;
pulses shot down my back.
music people blurred
into echoes. His words
a treat richer than coffee. Citrus
perfume infused the heat; hunger took control.
Honey seeped into locked lips.
His wink broke the spell.
Notes flew off key. Samba swayed
a desperate grind of genitals, disgust
erupted in my throat. Honey
backhand met cheek.
On patio furniture I sucked cigarettes.
Cappuccino froth sank with my lust,
imagining Cristian Rosas.