Tempo I

É um sopro ciclónico, uma corrente alucinante

Que p
           a
             s
               s
                 a, que me consome. Que me drena do meu corpo,
                                                        Pouco a pouco,
                                                                                    gota
                                                                                    a
                                                                                    gota;

Que me …a…r…r…a…s...t…a… e me arrasa,
Que me desfaz, e me funde
                                                  Com esta cega e impiedosa teia.
                                                  Vasta, p        a;
                                                               r       d
                                                                o    n
                                                                  f u

Que me torna num ligeiro pesadelo. Um corpo incorpóreo,
                                                                   Um (         ) eivado de tudo,
                                                                            nada

Palpitante, ardentemente sangrando, perpetuamente c
                                                                                                  a
                                                                                                   i
                                                                                                  n
                                                                                                  d
                                                                                                  o

Neste infinito precipício de almas, para sempre roubadas
Do seu efémero corpo.

Para sempre…