By Carol-Ann Rudy

When it’s cold in Miami 

lizards stick to the window

like licorice to my teeth

and air takes on the crackle

of champagne drunk from crystal,

no longer lanquid on my tongue.

Color flattens, cheap prints of a Master’s,

and the moon over Rickenbacker

jumps up yellow.

When it’s cold in Miami

bathing beauties sport goosebumps

like strange fruit blossoming

and sugared praline sand crunches between my toes

inviting them to linger.

Hot café Cubano tongues me

leaving me senseless,

and the moon over Rickenbacker

jumps up yellow.

When it’s cold in Miami

wind flies from flagpoles

jousting with pelicans,

joking with the waves and stitching ruffles at water’s edge.

Needles of cold air kiss my legs that dance between yours on Calle Ocho

and I am swallowed up in love with the night, the stars, and you,

when the moon over Rickenbacker

jumps up yellow.

About the author:

Member, Triple Nine Society
Past President Ex-Officio, South Carolina Writers Association, SCWA (formerly SCWW), www.myscwa.org. Member, Society of Childrens Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI)
https://www.facebook.com/carolann.rudy

Everyone seeks happiness! Not me, though! That’s the difference between me and the rest of the world. Happiness isn’t good enough for me! I demand euphoria!
— Calvin, from “Calvin & Hobbes,” on expectations