Luzes da Cidade

sexta-feira, 22 de fevereiro de 2008


I desire that each word of this poem, baby
when you to read left of being only word
play to the wind to become itself into affection
that each word had the power to penetrate in the skin
as thorn that does not wound
but the mark of the love only leaves that
I always dedicated to it with devotion
You the certainty! much they go to say with its malicious voices:
You desired it because it was prettiest perhops the most coveted
because if you walked of hands give interlaced with the soft hands
off it all would go to die of envy!
This is truth! I cannot
This is truth! I cannot deny
the desire had the attraction to conquer and to fell for the first time
the perverse side of the jealousy
and the fear on the probable one loses
but for backwords of this always new
exactly in my naviety and inexperience
wich age my place in this story
then I always was a loafing dog in its front
what you did not obtain to prevent, baby
its was to hold my imagination
you were my princess
my fairy
my Patty Duke
loved mine
my ideal woman
that I never had in the real plan
but that in my dreams it was always present
stick in my pillow
as an obsession
that it brought me more peace of what anxiety
I had the privilege of it to know, baby
and this does not happen all day
a luck blow is a true lottery
I was gotten passionate since the first one look at
as the explain this magical foolishness
as the leave this involving wonderfull riel of lines
that if convert into verses.

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