She is the one who travels the world, who sees life through experiences, who feels her way through life. She is the one who left her skin behind to be part of a larger self; beyond beliefs and colours, beyond borders. She is the one that lives with a shared identity, she is a melting pot. She is us.
She is the one who dips her toes in the centre of the world. She is the Mediterranean. Something between fire and water. She is warm to touch like the people in the south of France, Spain, or Greece but enough to burn you once you get too close, like the Mediterranean sun. She is the sea
She is strong and solid, like a bar gold. She is motherly and nurturing, she is the beginning of the world. She lives in warm shades and smells like pine needles and salt. She is fierce, she sounds like music played in the jungle, she is ever growing roots. She is whole. She is Africa.
She is happy and colourful like the precious sharees. She is soft as silk, with eyes the look deep into your soul and burn slowly. She is intricate like her Mehndis and tastes like paprika and tea. She is full of music and dancing in the moonlight. At night she holds the world in her painted hands. She is India.
She is ancient and diverse. She is used in living with others so close it makes her suffer but wouldn’t have it any other way. She is blue and red, white and green, she is a million different people at one. She looks like Paris and feels like Prague. She sounds like Belgrade and kisses like Vienna. She is culture, she is music. She is the perfect sonata. She is Europe