Soft song,
Rich details
Told story,
Vinyl noises.
Slopes and atabaques
Brazil syncretism.

The beach hawker
With rosaries and guides
Carries the now-forgotten truth.

It is black.
Black and white.

Light linen suit,
A skirt that turns the gira of life.
Lavender that drips on steps,
Thrown to the people in the daytime parades.

Red river, port of arrivals
Stage of homes, divine lives
Sonnets, verses ships passed through it
There She stays.

Queen of all colors.
Each bead a force,
Herbs between embroideries and whelks
On the clothes that time renews in telling.

It is dawn in the fabrics,
The silk was heated with colors from the Orixá.
It is men and women who carry in their heads
The axé of who carries forward the sea.

The instrument body
In the painted thread
Shelters the wind in the movement of the loom

The Mystic Red
Of the freedom of existing and being here.