Trazias no peito a ferrugem líquida dos relógios. Arrancava-te as horas como pregos. Depois ficávamos deitados a observar os animais brancos.

Não sabíamos nada. Não tínhamos nada.

Apenas soprávamos a cana da loucura — e tremíamos.

Vasco Gato

Your lungs fill & spread themselves,
wings of pink blood, and your bones
empty themselves and become hollow.
When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon
and your heart is light too & huge,
beating with pure joy, pure helium.
The sun’s white winds blow through you,
there’s nothing above you,
you see the earth now as an oval jewel,
radiant & seablue with love.
It’s only in dreams you can do this.
Waking, your heart is a shaken fist,
a fine dust clogs the air you breathe in;
the sun’s a hot copper weight pressing straight
down on the think pink rind of your skull.
It’s always the moment just before gunshot.
You try & try to rise but you cannot.

Margaret Atwood

sem te saber perguntar pela ausência,
descoses palavras
na melodia dum instante.
não te iria dizer que
me provocas tempestades que se entranham nas crateras da pele.