.the.dualism.of. Dali.

into the
deep divine
of circumstances
carnival has never been my thing
but then I was born a Brazilian
and had been to Venice.
more than once.
so how to explain...?
the allegories I've embodied,
the parades I've marched,
the parties I've taken part of,
the discontinued rhythm
of events resounding
multiple natural
abortions of perfection.
sometimes being pregnant
doesn't mean you're a mother.

if only you knew
how the porcelain
cracks hints of flesh
that's been there for so long.
flesh that's stronger than
any steel or armor I
attempt to wear,
more precious than any of
the poems I've written...
more there than anything I am.

if only breathing was enough
to deconstruct the over-thinking
floors in this building,
I would take a deep breath and
gently exhale every particle to
its newest remodeled rooms.

nothing's darker than a room
where there are lights, off.

if only heartbeats equal
quantity of times I've felt
this way, then my heart
has beaten once.
strong, pungent and warm
by a Japanese drummer.

because it is only the absence
of the present presence
to bring the present back.


when we squint our eyes
to opposite
colors falling hot
and cold,
ah, those snowflakes
on a summer night
on the tip of
our tongues
to the bottom
of our stomachs.

[Pic by merrie, manipulation by me.]

defying poetic norms

...I had a poem in my mind with a very precise final stop. she then crossed past by me and it all turned into comas, and comas, and comas,

paper, pen and to be continued

... and when it can't handle me, I know my poems always will.


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