Rhythmic swells reverberate through your lungs. The black streets of Valencia.
Romani enclaves, gypsy-parts of town.
We’ll sit here in the Plaça de la Virgen with our stiff drinks. Sangria. Smartly bashful we’re red-faced, delirious.
For it is Spring, the blossoms sing
Nodding in the wind.
Blanco bells of nerium ring.
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