Blinking she wandered into the eighties, striving...
it happened quite suddenly as these things do and...

I am an educated fool
tearing myself in two...

The brute oblivion of the sea smothers me
with unforgivable fingers as I load my memory...

My transparent heart just wants
cliches, lies and the eternal abandonment...

The color of her skin holds untold stories of...
and as she passes by barefoot and in white...

Nothing belongs to me
even my life...

Your two-handed sword fell from your hands
creating space for my dreamy fingers...

Manoel died
and the world...

What is this thing
stopping my hand midair...

I go beyond maps, seeking the language of beings
when she pulls my strings, healing me, awakening...

I get this feeling
and anything can happen...

She became a hymn, a solemn something
after the indescribable understanding...