I don’t remember when this dream started. I was on the terrace of the hotel, drinking a lemon spritz. You took a cab to Podgorica airport, the road was shaking. My tears began to flow, my love, it rained and the sun came back. You had a white shirt, stained with mud. The road to the airport has many curves but you were looking at the vineyards and you were not afraid you did not even notice the mud nor the rain. I smiled at you, threw my Spritz over the balcony. I think it fell on a cat and you frowned.
I don’t know what happened next, and if I did I wouldn’t tell you reader, you’ll only know that the sheets turned white during the night and that I loved you more than the reflection of the moon on my eyelashes, and more than happiness itself.
The day splashed on the square of arms of Koto, the monumental winged lion looked at us. I was dizzy, but I didn’t let go of your hand for a minute, not even when the clock tower threatened with jealousy. We entered the cathedral, and the shadows of martyrs danced before the candles. I looked at the shaky stained glass windows, a shower was already falling outside, then, again, the sun came back to smile at us like a naughty kid.
In the evening the harbor was crowded, so I took you away from the music, behind a tree. I drove to the old town of Herceg Novi and hugged you in front of the « bloody tower ». For a long time we waited for ghosts to come and ruffle our hair but there was only the silence sat with us. I caressed your face for a long time before you wanted to take the road again. The evening fell like my hair on your shoulders and we took the road again.
Marshal Tito seemed to haunt the minds of the villagers, and the air was moist. I licked an ice cream – what flavor? Probably raspberry – and I put some on your shirt but you didn’t notice I am sorry. I wanted to hug you, but I held back because some old ladies playing cards were watching us in an anxious way, as if we would disturb their peace.
The sea finally undressed in front of our love-stunned eyelashes and we took the boat to cross the strait to Igalo. In Perast, the Venetian palaces reminded us that passion is not the only challenge of beauty and that the skies are sometimes sincere with those who truly are overwhelmed by art and love itself.
I waited until nightfall to take you to make love to me on a private beach but it was not possible. Many villas were whispering, glasses could be heard clinking, and we ran to escape the prying eyes.
On the way to the hotel, there is a mausoleum that is a little wind-scratched. We passed the hotel and climbed a hill. I was following you, you were walking a little fast, you were becoming the wind and I was like a twig, lost in you forever.
At the top of that hill, a group of black birds heckled us. The scent of a grilled carp came to haunt our nostrils. I wanted to make love again to you because I could not in front of the villas, but walkers filled the picturesque picture before our eyes too soon.
I picked a rose, but I didn’t have a vase. Ans so I made a little pile of rocks and scattered the petals on top.
The next day we went swimming in the Tara Gorge, it’s a canyon even bigger than the Colorado, I bet you did not know? The light was overwhelming. The pines perfumed the air. Olive trees swallowed the sun and spat it out in fragrant fumes. I bought some oil from a blind merchant, you lay on the sand and I put two drops on the back of your neck and breathed in your neck.
Behind the beach there was a ruin, Illyrian or Slavic or Turkish lovers came to plunge their desires into it. I took your hand and put it on the rock and you caressed the old fortress, my hand on yours.
The crimes of the Yugoslav era have left their mark here in the eyes of the sinners. Yet they smile at us as they cast their nets on the turquoise water. Only the eye-catching buildings hurt the beauty of the landscape here.
My love, don’t stop me from going to the Casino tonight, I love to gamble. But I’ll tell you a secret, you’re my favorite player and the only one I’m willing to lose everything to, life, honor, literature. I gave you my soul on the steep path of the Adriatic coast, please don’t lose it while climbing the thousand steps of the Herceg Novi stairs that lead to paradise.