October 26, 2020
because it is the land of determined steps and motions all dripping with flamenco passion and loud, raw-voiced melisma blossoms of Arab singing
because under that sun and inside jasmine nights, the murmur of the fountain is no more than a whisper and the mind hears everything it has not heard before, that suave beckoning so often drowned by the roar of subways and notification sounds
because tea is a liquid mosaic that rearranges its own pieces, petals of Damascus rose and shredded mint and almond slivers to meet your lips at every sip with a different kiss
because the streets of the Albayzín give you Istanbul’s Bazaar in slices
because the color dances of Moroccan skirts and harem pants ravish you more than the myrrh and orange blossom scents drifting through narrow alleys
because in the Alhambra the filigree of walls and the lace of arches beguile your eyes and your forbidden touch
because the Giralda’s bells spin in circles and look like they are throwing themselves out of their tower in abandon
because the Alcázar Garden in Córdoba is crushed in sunshine and solitude and simmering fragrance of bitter oranges at 3:00 pm, and you can have it all to yourself, if you dare
because the Mezquita grips your heart and makes it trace the curves of its infinite arches forever
because there is such a place as a perfume museum and the perfumes invite you to tea
because in Granada at the San Nicolás overview you arrive at an intersection of longing for things you didn’t know you were longing for
because in Sevilla, summer heat, Guadalquivir breezes, and manzanilla have signed a pact to make the traveler linger
because time spends time pampering itself and you, if you let it
because there is someone else inside you who emerges to walk the soil of Andalucía, and you know that he or she has always been a part of you
because you fall in love with the land and with its version of you and with the very love you carry in your heart
because your senses are courted and your daring loved
