It hit me today the cold, the emptiness,  the loss of it, as the sun painted a deep shade of end-of-the-day,  something in the air  reached inside and pulled up the movie  of those days, of bike rides up the cobble stone hill overlooking the bay, of blackened tortillas heated by hand  on open flames and long talks in the kitchen from midnight  till dawn of mad dashes  here and there, of the whole clan stampeding in from the rain, sweaty, soaked, beaming, bikes piled by the door,  shirts drying on the backs of chairs, laughter and the scent  of freshly made quesadillas  rising, days of the pier teaming  with glistening boys all smiles  and shouts, side by side with the lancheros, small, wooden boats and leathered skin,  of passions snuffed out by angry fathers, of tourists and flower vendors, the whoosh of the surf  just across the main drag from the booming club music, of rumors and stories, rumblings, cries, of walking streets at all hours of the night, one shadow meeting another, sharing whispers and magic I only knew you  for a couple of days and yet there is something about the way you breezed in and out of my life, the funny way you talked, even in your sleep, how you held me, your wild hair and big black eyes, my little anemone of the streets, how you lived on the wind  and then disappeared in my mind we are there together, Hadrian, two footprint paths crossing on a windy beach at the end of a cloudless day I miss the helter skelter  and machismo, the radiant faces,  some of which I can't put names to anymore,  but for some reason  I think I miss you  most of all. (Hugs to TAK)

 

 

 

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