Whirling around a haze of clarity

There, over there.

They are in the air.

My words, my thoughts.

Whisking goodbye, until next time.

In waves of purification.

Waters seeping into a deserted ground.

Bare feet upon sharp rocks,

The icy heat of blazing stones.

Slowing down the record player.

Turning down the vocals,

Jazz, sweat and heat in closed spaces.

midnight in Havana.