When we swayin' on the dance floor,
hair free and hips wide,
I feel you on my waist.
Soft but commandin'.
When we playin' in naps and knots and curls,
I feel the tips of your fingers pickin' at my scalp.
When the wind is whisperin' and screamin' and shoutin',
I feel you creakin’ underneath my bones.
Hands on skin,
Toes in soil.
In the blues of night I hear you hummin' midnight melodies in my ear,
Deep from your belly.
Beautiful. Clear.
You call to me and I follow you to the water’s edge where we wait.
The moon paints the ocean white
And my skin blue.
In the blues of each other we rest.
We are home together once more.
Artwork: Mikael Jansson's CUBA editorial for Porter Magazine.
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