on my down lip
the day of freedom (imaginary of coarse)
become increasingly more confusing
narrow
I do not find peace
I slipped like a seek child with sweet moder breast lay
on my down lip
nobody knows I tel you sober
nobody knows
during those seven days not exactly
I taught
I am or was or not
nobody knows
rinse me
spit what is left and go with the people
my father said
air suffocates me
autumn leaves
the smell of ocean ashes
I feel
a knife that moves inside me slowly
oh
the city as a naked woman lying on green grace
oh you
who drank alcohol and words in pubs
the night break the fragile links
among people
grow mushrooms on my face
among
intimate objects and books the desert
my friend
body is a carnivorous plant
you did not see in him the swallows
yes
I left my angel wings elongated shadow
my father left me from the early
the youth as a departure
I was a kid and I scatter heaps of earth
among the blocks
I was ashamed of my beloved
my soul dies in shame
but how proud he looked me
from the cedar bank
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Ministério da Poesia :
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