"rhythms of supplication" on a walk in Lisboa

... I see things, I see them move about your streets

in rhythms of supplication, sweet humiliation

of self devouring figures

like in mirrors. The maiden

has aged but her body

is still sweet, a reading that takes time

and when it arrives speaks only to strangers

or stays silent, closes her eyes and, standing still,

seems to dance alone. She’s rare,

each of her gestures is almost historic...

[from "Lisboa" by Diogo Vaz Pinto}

 

my textures

Done