By the edge of the Tagus,
the river passes unhurried,
as if it knew
its end.
I sit by the window.
The waters meet
and carry me away.
Time is not chased.
It flows.
Days, minutes
on an unbroken thread.
Each thing
at its own rhythm.
The world continues.
I learn not to interrupt.
Without urgency.
Without fear.
I observe
what yields,
what remains.
And then,
almost without sound,
we change.
I light a cigarette.
The flame hesitates.
So do I.