I wandered atop the walls of the empty castle, expecting some attack or some siege. I attempted to reconstruct historic analogues, imagining myself as a defender of the Almoravid dynasty, perched upon high, witnessing the arrival of crusaders, the fear and hatred I’d feel for their supposedly righteous project, determined to thwart their efforts, determined to die if need be. Though of course, from my perspective the outcome was already fixed; the violence necessary for me, a visitor, to be granted a view of unending terracotta rooves, for a ticketed, beautiful vantage of the city of now, limited to the violence of my imaginings, my ability to conceive of what was never mine to remember. No dues paid. Ruins within ruins within ruins.
