Thursday, April 29, 2010


licking each other's tears
laughing our lips crimson red
kissing each other upside down
until kisser and kissed
can't be tell apart
you waited for me for five hundred and forty-seven days
i will wait for your time, late in life
for my time to be early
so i can catch you before the clock
beats the hour
today and tomorrow
we are here every now.
we know
i write
to tell you
what i told you
what you told me
you are late so late
still i repeat
dream with me
awaken and asleep
if we dream
the now is
and today is

Saturday, April 24, 2010


amor from an hidden place
darkened by years of thunder
and rain
love vieste tão de leve que te achei de menos
de manhã presente de tarde intensamente
e eu na cegueira improvisada
pois que se me toldava o querer
no cheiro persistente
de teu corpo fino
no olfacto raro
que me leva aos píncaros
me eleva a Deusa
e te faz uma espécie de santo
qual Xavier incólume
nos meus dedos de ti

never knew the rain
would make it grow from the inside
esperando impaciente que me tombasse do altar
aproximaste-te da pia baptismal e tomaste para ti
o nascimento de outra criatura
menos santa
menos pura
mistura de gente e de animal
que se te cola nas entranhas
como se mel de mim foras

we now wait for time to stand still
and keep on raining

leftovers e outras coisas que tal

i feed on leftovers
                       não que me alimente de restos
                       mas alimentam-me os sinais
the note on the fridge
                       o sal esquecido do oceano Pacífico
                       na beira da prateleira
the garbage bag on wait
                       há muito me estranha a espera
                       hora adiantada
                       onde esperei desacertada
the toothbrush
                       a ilusão da estada, a contagem dos dias
                       que hão-de perfazer dois mil e tantos
                       pois que preciso de ir-me antes que acabem
i leave them all over
reminding me
i'm not alone
é que o esquecimento alagou a estrada e os carros de bois
despencaram ladeira abaixo e eu mirando o rio
onde não nadam os animais
simplesmente se espalham como areia na praia
não nadam não, é a água que os empurra adiante
na correnteza certa do mar à vista
marinheiros de curta viagem
os bois apearão à frente
e eu, mais uma vez, guiarei boiada
alagada desmemoriada o sorriso aberto
a convidar à madrugada...entrai!

Tuesday, April 20, 2010


             kiss me my love
     kiss me
i don't feel like kissing
jump over the bed
                            and down
down am I

        are the legs
    hold me
       my hand
no jumping
nor                 up

      when we kiss the world goes gray
fuck the world
i don't feel like kissing

I sew

your ghost
comes through the little happiness i managed to let come to me
in the midst of the salt of my tears
covering the scars of torture
you are not truly dead
i felt the blade of your indifference
last night
i heard the goals of your misery
metamorphosed in a game
where i always loose
the blunt metal blade carves into my mouth
ever so slowly
my lips unkissed on the floor
covered with
the blood that still drips off my eyes.
and darkness befriending me
offering relieve
from the bottomless hole of pain
where i float asunder.
i embrace it
hoping that in the morning you
and your blunt sword
have left the room
at least for another month or so

wrapped up in the soiled cloths
that cleaned the carpet
i sew
i sew incessantly
i will sew my lips my eyes
back on
and happiness will peek
from between each stitch

the pins i pull out at every stitch
of the needle sewing flesh
the pins i stuck
in your shadow
against the bright light of the window
the pins will keep you still
at least for a month more
so i can smile and let dreams approach as if i weren't a patch
a patch
another patch
sewn together
a skin quilt

happiness looks me in the eye
that i gently grab of the floor
happiness looks at me from that eye
that i sew
amidst tears of hope
since tomorrow
you won't be able to hurt me
your shadow
pinned down
at the sound of
happiness behind closed doors.
i sew.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

If it were true

truth is self evident
lips remain sealed
a pregnancy
a delivery
a child
hands holding each other
holding onto each other

and the mouth is quiet
so very quiet
lips kissing other lips