>"Cuban Cigars and Smoke" NaPoWriMo #1

> 
Handing me a Cuban cigar
while holding a match to the tip,
I saw my reflection in its flame
My beret was feeling lopsided
as the sun shone in my eyes
Palms swayed like hula dancers
from faraway Hawaiian islands
His voice was firm and reassuring,
like the beat of a drum never out
of sync, while smoky fingers curled
round our heads, beckoning their release …
similar to lives that exist in oppression,
pushing them further away from reality’s
happiness … paint peeling slowly off
the wall behind him, layers underneath become
more complex as he looks at the crowd below us

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