
(© Patrícia Evans)
.
Muddy body,
slimy spirit
and my wet vision doesn't identify you near.
All my flesh is drenched with water.
All my soul is imortally drowned.
You will not come as usual, it's clear.
Days of dryness,
days of wild heats
and days of harsh heart beats.
Days of atrocious storms
when I re-born,
days when I die,
that I feel myself aside
and days I'm out of bounds.
.
But when I don't feel you around,
when you don't hear my claim,
these are days I always rain.
.
.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário