quinta-feira, 17 de setembro de 2009

5 en

write to myself
for the finite present
immediate
the one it's over
to me
all i write
disappears
with writing
thoughts vanish
reasoning
metaphors
ideologies
not necessarily in that order
or another
just write
write to myself
how dare you peek
over my shoulder?
just because you know
you make me happy
in my silence
i pretend intimacy
inconvenient
the one i write
to annoy you
to make me believe
intimacy another
is to lose you and be alone
simply
lost in the world

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