“Audaces fortuna iuvat.” “Fortune favors the bold.” ~ Virgil
“Virtue has a veil, vice a mask”. ~ Victor Hugo
Costumed in red and yellow they scamper through the streets
and knuckle the doors
the hot sun pooling,
as if splashing,
molten hot from a crucible,
around their feet
the Carnevale is coming….
Porcelain, peacock blue, emerald green and gold mask the windows,
and the air is an elixir,
and the very stones smell of chocolate,
of sour spilled wine and orange peel.
Stained by magic old and new,
by sex and mystery and rainstorms.
Demons and Courtesans eye each other familiarly
while the golden tower is carried through the square
and a humming cry spirals up from the crowd,
its energy bending and glowing as if the moon were melting.
Beads my darling?
the vendors sing
Jugglers and fortune tellers and disappearing…
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