A labyrinth of quiet alleys
where you absorb moments that feel
like they belong to no one,
and yet to everyone who’s ever been here.
The scent of the sea clings to the air,
mixing with coffee, incense,
and the distant laughter of strangers.
Here, serendipity is a way of being.
A church,
its walls reverberating with Vivaldi’s notes,
a heartbeat from centuries past
filling the air with something
that feels like longing,
or maybe just peace.
You wander
and the city shifts around you,
showing you its secrets,
its ethereal beauty that you only notice
when you’re not looking.
A flash of sunlight on a canal,
a reflection that disappears as soon as you see it,
a city that holds you,
then lets you go
while you carry a piece of it in your thoughts.
DIANA MARIN 