Before us, in the lap of archaic devotion, the majesty of two lovers: the city and the sea. The horizon allows itself to be traced by the light, becoming a valley and a mountain to the enjoyment of the Atlantic, thus interrupted in its regularity. Through the cut-off edge of the coast, in white foam patches, a kiss that is repeated in each new clasp, the repeated vows of Neptune and Venus. From this place, this sacred hill, the Orient kneels before the end of days, surrendering to the boundaries of the dwellings and the fire that sweeps the towers and hills of Funchal.
There is no accuracy in the expansion of heaven – the sunset occurs unattached to laws of Physics, unrepeatable and final, as everything that ceases to be. Distant, unrevealed, the bells ring out the time that is still being made. Night falls and, once again, the city is covered by the mantle of desires.