trigueña

corn coloured, i am.

telling

a man looks deep into my eyes and tells me my future. and you may be in it.

converted!

havana to trinidad

bite. lick. kiss. trace. press. slide. cup. squeeze. suck.

poetry

the artist tells me in improvised verse of his love for me, of my wholesomeness, of my beauty. in the gallery, he pushes my hand over his painting, and traces the countour in a cheap biro from his breast pocket. i am now art. i am artful. a hidden muse. a false goddess.

rain, again.

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Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

a girl walks down the malecon. waves crash over the ocean wall splashing seaweed and salt over the sidewalk. the girl's shoe, soaked inside, slips off every third step. an old man sits looking out to sea, holding something in his hands. the girl's skirt is drenched in water, clinging to her legs. her shoe lags behind every third step. the man offers the girl his erect penis like a flag, toothless grin flashing from behind a dirty beard. the girl walks on. the waves crash over the ocean wall. the shoe slips off every third step.

decay

havana is crumbling and i want to be a trillionaire, to gather it in my arms and pamper it back to glorious health

world traveller...my arse!

i hope someone out there is looking forward to a ton of cuban cigars, cos i've already been guilted into buying a box. paranoia and suspicion levels stratospheric. havana very pretty, though.