The Smell of Fish and Cocoa Skin
- No i cant forget his big blue eyes even when they are so far away from mine.
Maria was whispered every morning like a prayer, looking through the window to the sea. Bahia was her home, chocolate brown was her colour, and that exotic, gourmet man, her wait. He had gone to sea, left her after dawn, while her face was still asleep, she passes her days working on the lake washing clothes for a few coins to eat, singging “ensaboa mulata ensaboa, ensaboa, to ensaboando”.
The insaciable desire, beyond the basic needs, for food, is what thrives their relashionship, he was a cook and a fisher man, and she washed clothes. They had met at a coffee place, two years before that day, and never were parted again, but twice a year he went to sea for a whole month.
Maria shed her tears with flow of the river asking Oxalá for indulgence.
