Cuba libre
An unbearable sultriness filled the heavy air in Havana,announcing victory uppon spring's humidity and rainy days. Listening to the sounds of the lively city,I took a sip from the heavy glass on the wooden table in the corner of the hotel's small terrace. My lips curled into a joyful smile as the rum left a bitter taste in my throat,blending with the taste of a few Marlboros that I hoped would ease my mind.
I closed my eyes,letting the distant sounds of people talking,dogs barking and cars driving into the night paint pictures on the blank canvas in my head while fighting the urge to sink into unconsciousness that wrapped it's hands around my limbs,pulling me into the dark abyss of a dream that seemed unreal. And before I knew it,my head was resting against the wall behind me whilst the smoke of the cigarette I had just light formed clouds of smoke in the air.
„Hurry up..." I muttered,before letting go of the last straw binding me to reality.
His dark eyes persecuted me...the severe stare drawing me into their depth with each look,chaining me to his strong and determinated presence. I thought of his strong body-the fortress that had been damaged so many times,but that never succumbed...of his hands-the hands of a soldier,whose caresses felt lighter than a feather on my bare skin...of his voice-strong and clear,speaking of changes he so strongly believed in...and speaking of love-in rhymes and verses,whilst his presence turned from severe to fragile. He spoke about war,about revolution and justice,and I reminded him of the one thing every war can be won with,the one thing every revolution needs to succeed,the thing justice lays on...of love.
And just like that,like a breeze on a summer evening and the long awaited rain on a summer day,a warm breath grazed the skin of my neck...before a pair of warm lips broke into my dreams with their tender kisses,the smell of cigarettes and a musky cologne breathing life into my heart's flesh.
„So,military stories weren't as fun as usual?" I muttered,still half asleep,leaning into the softness of his lips on my neck.
„Let's just say I prefer the company of an inteligent writer..." he spoke between kisses,as I shiverred beneath his passionate assault.
Just when I was about to open my eyes,a warm hand blocked my sight...before his breath on my ear sent shivers down my spine.
„Keep them closed...I want you to surrender to your senses..."he purred into my ear,the depth of his voice vibrating throughout my body.
Before I could think of what to say,he pulled me into his strong embrace and lead the way into our in this endless thing called love,I felt nothing but his touches. My skin-the fragile ice...turned into water under the warmth of those strong arms. I felt his body shiver under the youth of my moist lips and his heart pound like a drum under the wilderness of my dark eyes as his breathing speed up with each touch,as our worlds came crushing down...our hearts uniting in the dust from our own ruins. I didn't hear the noise of the traffic nor the screams of the drunken soldiers staggering just below our terrace...with Che,it was always as if time had stopped,leaving me hanging in a space between reality and dream whilst he spoke of worlds so distant to common people...
Although passionate in everything he did...seeing the great Ernesto Che Guevara disarmed by the power of love seemed unreal. I was there,feeling his touch on my skin burning with desire,drowning in the warmth of his gentleness...and yet,it all seemed like a storm of pleasure-which I was thrown into with the purpose of finding what I had always wanted, something unreal and dangerous.
Danger...that's what he was.
With my eyes fixed onto the dying sun on the thin line of the horizon,I listened to his calm breathing. Against my own will,I felt his presence beside me...his hand resting on the sand still warm from the blazing sun...his heart,beating wildly under the momentaneous confusion.
How did I find myself sitting beside this man,when I knew all I was allowed to feel were fear and respect...and instead,I felt nothing but an unfamilliar closeness.
„Choose safety,and live a happy life..." he spoke in a low tone,breaking the unbearable silenc we had been trapped within for several hours.
„Or choose danger,and risk the loss of everything you have... "
A wiser someone would've probably gotten up and walked away,with a pain in their heart but an easy mind. And a much more stupid someone like myself...chose love over safety.