
One hand rises towards her breast; the other follows her waist. Between their gestures, the smallest spaces become strangely difficult to leave.

A face of perfect composure. Two hands still busy with a crown. A tiny human comedy, held in weathered stone.

A little doorway keeps its darkness. Beneath the waterline, another appears — just as clear, and impossible to touch.

The faintest smile rests beneath an elaborate crown. Beyond the interrupted arms and fractured stone, two carefully carved bare feet await discovery.