Cursive Message With Two Stamps

"¿Dónde está el ser humano? "
dropped Enrico
another stone on my tongue

I sputtered some agreement
sipping shitty rum, futilely
placating Fernando with a shrug of my—
“Why do my shoulders feel like lead?”

"Guapa, tu sabes..."

And maybe
that’s how he did it.

bashing bisexuality
spinning sob-stories of
French ex-boyfriends and sexual repression
with a side of salsa

while, three cubatas later,
biting my neck
and whispering,
"Quiero enseñarte el sexo anal"

but now I’m just throwing stones
instead of skipping them
outward and over
from the eye of the storm

or at least, that’s what I thought
when Enrico carved,
"Barcelona es el cielo por la noche"
the tiny shards of rock
pricking the corners of my eyes
with a hopeless vision
of frightened girl and fag
holding each other

in darkness