|
Inside the apartment,
everything is very quiet.
|
 |
|
|
He leans back on the cushioned chair
|
|
|
|
and taps the asymetrical
salsa rhythm
|
|
|
|
|
on the windowsill.
|
|
|
 |
|
That and that alone
makes sense,
|
|
|
where everything slips away from recognition,
|
 |
|
|
|
leaving him disoriented
and adrift,
|
|
|
the repeating pattern of the afrocuban drums
|
|
|
|
|
vibrates within him like an ancient bell.
|
|
|
|
He slaps the
wood hard
|
|
|
|
and,
without any words,
|
|
|
|
|
makes a clear decision,
|
|
|
one that slips through the soft textured inner membranes
|
|
|
|
|
of the thin brown body he now occupies.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
