Article voiceover
Without Apologies an ocean heaviness was in the air, my footsteps made a broken music on the narrow cobbled streets upwards I glanced forgetful of the tidal past that led me to this maze of shadows lengthening our sun cast light enough – a pastel burnishing of the facades that hemmed us in so gloriously: sandstone, taupe and earthen red – a dimming glow preceding dusk that turned a window into self-reflecting glass there really wasn't time, I thought, quickening the pace to somewhere else a languid figure at the furthest doorway, leaning in the nearly dark had disappeared, I was so close, the faintest cry of joy or pain, the waning heat, her spell unraveling, a coiled changing sky above and then without apologies or choice I followed Emanuel E. Garcia May 2025
Good poem, very, very good and moving. Is this how aspects of fate evolve? Like magnets perhaps, falling in line one behind the other, but who can estimate the real strength of a magnetic field? Magnets eventually lose their power, this much is true, although fate goes on unperturbed and merciless.