Quando você torce seu corpo comprido
e seu quadril me encara
num repouso estático
(que) sibila e canta
para a minha cara atônita
me imagino uno
cravando-lhe os dentes
como cravo olhares
por cada segundo em que descubro e cubro
suas dolosas pernas
(que me laçam, me prendem)
num delírio, num sonho.

There I was, childishly laid over a cloudy sighting, rolling on a blanket of tranquility, taken by a dreamy, deep mood in which your presence ate me, chewing and swallowing my soul inch by inch.
Someone opened the door and pulled me out of where i’ve been drowning for three, maybe four everlasting seconds of You, submerged in each wave of your long hair, twisted, flowing between the pale fingers of your pale hand.
The way you’re clueless about it, this hungry, vile and desperate wish of mine, only crowns this moment in a unique fashion: a selfish wish of being inside, over and around you whole.

as if we were magnetic and every human and inhuman inch of our beings was taking this whimsical feeling to the very core of it,
we knew we had to hold each other, like the bud urges to blossom, and the stars insist to Be even if they’ve been dead for a million years.
The moment, an infusion steeped by the warm likeness of a fever, melted and faded as her hands stroked mine in a glance throughout my Self.
It impressed me, this suspended, floating, glaring, ethereal feeling. It took me away, and I don’t want to be taken back.

I knew I would find you after all of these.

I’ve been a lonely boy throughout these years
and you’re the only one I find in here
there’s no one else around me, see.

I dug a deep grave for us both to be.

We’ll be so close this time, we’ll almost blend.
I’ll sew my soul on yours and in the end
you’ll hide from every single one the tears
that no one else would care to miss.

já disseram que é problema de sem-vergonhice, de baixa auto-estima, de falta de cristo, de vício, de destemperança, de encapetamento.
eu até cogitei parar de beber. talvez eu pare de machucar as pessoas que amo.

definitivamente não foi um bom beijo.

e num impulso só caí no fundo
do lugar mais fundo.
daqui só existe a memória das tuas pernas compridas
e tardes infinitas sem poder tocá-las.