Kira felt the heat. It rose like a thin fog off the Cuban sand. It was the kind of heat she’d only felt in private places, places only he touched. As she sat on the fine gray sand near the mouth of the cave, she could feel the sun awakening her to memories that made her body ache. She touched her bottom lip, rubbed it gently, closed her eyes, and allowed a past moment to rise to the surface, just above the clouds that slowly inched across the sky. Each movement gave way to the shape of bodies intertwined, reaching and touching every inch of flesh. She exhaled. A single cloud moved quickly as though blown by her breath, rushing aside to let the sun share in the moment. She opened her eyes and caught Imbe watching her as she watched the sun.
The Cuban sun was unlike the sun that touched other places in the world. The Cuban sun was only for Cuba. Its heat felt like that of two suns, twins suspended on nothing, each competing for the attention of the small island. It radiated its essence like a song permeating the heart.
Kira didn’t live in Cuba, Cuba lived in her. It lived as deep within her as Imbe. He lived in her soul. Cuba was like Imbe, deep, dark and sensual, ready to give everything. That was Cuba, and that was Imbe.