domingo, 4 de setembro de 2011


The memories are always more.
From what we live.
It is what remains and will follow us forever.
Untouchables, unpronounceable, indelible.
Inscribed on the altar of consciousness.
Tagged with fire inside the heart.
I feel them every day deeper and more painful.
There is no medicine or comfort.
Incurable wound that worsens the more moves.
I remember the cold, the smell, space, things, voices and sounds.
The table in the room, jokes, laughs, a drawer full of toys.
Hairs slicked back, very lively eyes, wide smile and easy.
Willingness to take much, much imagination to play.
Very generous in sharing and being happy.
Innocence, purity, sweetness.
An angel at my house in my life.
Everything went all loved, all she could.
Because I was a stone and now I am a man.

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