She twirls on herself and describes arabesques in space. Following an impulse, she throws one hand into the sky, removing a sliver of hair between her fingers.
From afar, she is a vibrant apparition made of soft colours and voluptuous lines. Strolling down the lively streets of Rio, amid thousands of other dancers, she stands out.
Her skin reflects the sunrays, which timidly approached her earlier and her charcoal hair translates the intensity. The body she swings from left to right to the rhythm of the maracas evokes ocean waves, incessantly rocking, as if wanting to hypnotize lost bathers. If she could sing, these undulations would be her song and her mesmeric eyes, her voice.
The carnival is in full swing, the music is loud and the energy intoxicating, yet in the crowd, the samba dancer, reminiscent of an oriental charmer, plays her own melody.