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sobre estados de alma e outras insignificâncias... :)
If you wear your wounds
Like an old dress
Too short
Too tight
Cutting into your arms
Know that dress is not you
It was meant to be discarded
At the moment you outgrew it
Don’t cling to that dress
Just because you think
You have nothing else to wear
Or because you’ve come to mistake that dress
For your own skin
Tight and raw
Prickling at a child’s reproachful look
Or a spouse’s off-key remark
Your vocation is not pain-master
Holding yourself together with safety pins
You have bigger, grander things to do
Than jab yourself with needles dulled with use
As you mend and mend again
The same split seams
Let that dress fall
Or wriggle out of it
Or cut yourself free with the same blade
You’ve applied to yourself all these years
Feel the real pain of this moment
The beautiful, throbbing ache of your true longing
Free from the ghosts that whisper “boo”
Just when you’re about to risk
An intimate moment with creation
Undefend yourself
Celebrate the kiss of life against your bare skin
Weep with relief
As you feel the depth of your desire
To say Yes
To sway in time with creation
Howard Jacobson and Mia Genis
Pensei escrever algo, para hoje,
bonito, algo com um título como
"Entre clichés e palavras vagas"
algo que falasse de sedução, de
como é fácil, acreditar, quando se
quer, mesmo contra tudo e contra
todos, contra nós...mas vai ficar
para outro dia. Hoje não quero.
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