Viagens...

São muitas, as sensações, e as reflexões, inclusive as que tomarão uma forma de escrita mais na "modalidade sociológica". Por enquanto, é isto o que consegui escrever -- sobre esta, a continuação das muitas viagens desta vida.



Mediterranean sunlight
white as bleached bone,
expanding the heat
of the heart. How strange,
how estranged life can get!
A language spoken loudly,
and no characters you can
decipher. People you’ve known
your whole life suddenly
worlds apart. A hand
warm and unfamiliar
cupped to a thigh. Having to live
for the moment with no
hearts breaking. People
talking to each other across
tables, pulling notes you
don´t have from their
wallets and pockets. Solitudes
growing the thickness of bushes,
the heavy waists of many
pregnancies. Alone in a
windy spring on Las Ramblas.
With students crossing a silent campus,
deserted Sunday in a French river
town. Solo saxophone in the Paris
metro. Lessons learned in singular
and plural. Morrocan pipes and distant
homelands. Hands curled around
grimy subway car poles, around
glimmers of light through
wounded afternoons. A place
where each city is
as good as the next.