I am pleased to greet my readers on #hive with today's installment in #literatos, where I'm sharing the series of poems I'm writing in Havana, the city I arrived in about ten days ago.

What books will we talk about? What poems?

How will we manage amidst the intellectual elite? While you ascend, announce, and smile at the masses?

How many knots will I tie with my handkerchief to undo the most unsettling moment of my soul, the most exalted in so long?

Like a child
Like an innocent
Who sees before him the black ribbon of paradise tightened around your throat

Like an eternal possession
Or an infinite revolution

Don't invite a writer to your readings
It's sweetly dangerous
Rarely strange
To squander private passions
In the public glances of disdain
And in the ordinary feast of common hours.

What books shall we talk about?
What poems?

Piece of woman
Lilac female of the Knights Templar.

Tell me.

Are we that?

Is it going to be that way
as ordinary as life is?

The little colorful fish
Come from the deep sea
They are plankton
Germinators in their challenge
To bite the dead roses.

We are the infinite yellow of the afternoon.

What we wanted to be and were
And we are no longer for ourselves
Yes, for the Almighty
The organizer of all that has life.

I will wait for you with Bulgarian onions
And chocolates
I will embrace you in the innocence of lamentable spectacles
And I will kiss you slowly, fearfully
Like the sun's rays
Enchant the gardens of the earth on April mornings.

Afterwards we will talk about books
About poetry.

And we will hate each other
So fiercely that the forests of Havana
Will burn without mercy
Every thing remembered
Every happy atom that is reborn
From our hands.

(August 2026).

From my series "Poems from Havana"