Trafika Europe 3 - Latvian Sojourn

so she took a seat and calmed down beneath Jesus’s crown, combed herself for the first time, so hard his blood pierced her skin and she saw seventy new colors on an acacia leaf ten new shapes in a bread crumb’s form and, for the first time, harlots, homeless and poor. Frantically at night she tried to save the prostitutes around Victoria Station; forty years straight she kept a daily diary on love while Ruskin, that portraitist, idle, handsome as King Cyrus,

hung out somewhere in a pub still hoping; his queen of colors entered eternity one cloudy day agitated as an African acorn descending into deep-scented peace all to save the unsaved and educate the illiterate women of Algeria.

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