cobbled, cut calcete
plumbed streets
facades girdled
iron
stone
delicate tiles of childhood stories
lost under granite
my room has no windows
the stars at night
a skylit pause
mice trafficked walls
cats on the roof
I am learning to say
Ela prefere andar em espaços abertos
and
As casas antigas são belas cavernas
I am learning the irregular heartbeat
broken boned
calicoed skinned
liminal
of Porto
