I breathe Vallarta and its colors overtake me,its unique moments that have already gotten tangled up in me. I feel its pure-blue and clear sky like a piece of cloth rolled out for undisturbed dreaming.And over that backdrop,palm trees and domes are drawn, and birds fly at sunset in perfect rows, as if they were enjoying the scenery under their wings.

And mountains cut out the horizon.Pure, intense and vibrant green with white houses hung upon it.Streets that go up and down like arteries full of brisk life. Mountains in the haze, a smooth and bluish fog over Puerto Vallarta that undoes our sight and makes it much softer and sweeter,caressing our senses without stridencies at all.

The night closes in and a new color-packed rainbow fills our soul.The pink hues of the seawall splays its drops in every sculpture,in each and every one of us living inside its circle. Orange in the sun over the beach of the dead,orange and yellow swayed by the breeze and cradled by the waves,making a pathway for our eyes only.

I think I could probably walk on that pathway,driven by the magic of this special place. Blue in the water, brownish, bright like scales, silver that dazzles my heart and sends my heartbeats racing with every reflection, giving my eyes flashes that take me by the hand to dreamland.