quinta-feira, 31 de dezembro de 2015

Filha de Gaia

Deito no chão,
na terra molhada coberta de folhas secas que me servem de cama.
Nunca deveria ter saído daqui.
Deito e ouço,
me atento e aguardo,
me passo, fico.
A terra me consome,
mãe terra,
sabe quando teus filhos precisam de ti.
Consome meus fardos,
consome meu ser,
consome meus desagrados.
Mãe terra.
Sou ar, sou terra, sou água, sou fogo, sou lua.
Sou filha de Gaia



quinta-feira, 24 de dezembro de 2015

Touch

The touch is like a toxin,
take everything around,
everything that touch,
and destroy it.
Sometimes I feel like I coudn't touch;
when I do,
they go away,
disapear.
Even that stay fisically,
their soul are not with me anymore.
And my love's here,
sleeping by my side,
on me.
That'so exactly and so full,
that I'm not sure if I can touch,
I can't touch my full dream.



segunda-feira, 14 de dezembro de 2015

Cinnamon

Maybe I can take a full glass of cinnamon, for you don't feel the bitter taste that starts on my elth, go to my throat, and over in somewhere next to my stomac.
Thi acid taste of who has just spit the life and swallow evils.
Of who lose the hope andregain it ten times for day.
From who wake up, look to the side, and just get up because there are amazing infinity loopings sprawled on our bed.
I miss the galaxies on your thighs.