I can't remember the first time I saw a beach. I'd just made one year, my mother had just become a widow. We went to Fortaleza. I can't remember the feeling. Maybe fascination. Probably fear. That isn't something I can describe without having consciously lived.
Besides I could now describe in exactly words a castaway's sensation when he first saw a beach after a long time lost in the ocean. Whirlwind of butterflies in my stomach. Warm sensation in my heart. Unmistakable sensation that - I should have imagined – no one else could cause me. Like find your place in a strange world. Like be in home.
So I thought “Everything is gonna be all right” and I felt happiness.
Poema é agora
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Estou morando no perigo,
cansando de viver no cansaço,
vivendo, muitas vezes, de embaraço,
de um aperto inconsequente no peito
e só pensando em viver direito...
Há 3 semanas