What’s left amidst the ashes of a nervous breakdown? A gust of warm, lively, sparkling hope. A rainforest drizzle summoning tears to flow – I can weep at last. The knot fades, anger loosens and the sun I should swallow in my mouth is still tattooed on my arm. And so too the feather I should raise instead of the cross. There it is, on my left arm. And the kiss Houdini gave his wife to seal the most poetic of spells… it’s still there, on my back. The eternal love knot symbolising universal brotherhood, it too is still there on my forearm. I believe in hope, I believe in a tonorrow which will take the me of today by the hand. I see my life as a transparent image in a new world. Turbulent, hysterical, silent but also aggressive and melodramatic – too much sweetness is there… and bitterness too at times. I’ve chosen to seek a meaning in all this. I yearn for a sense to it somehow, a motive for having come into this world, an explanation for all these emotions – no matter how wonderful or harsh they may have been. I must see the light and feel it softly kissing my forehead. I had promised myself that every time I felt there was no longer a syllable of poetry to chew on, that I would have sought elsewhere, with more strength, more tenacity, more stubbornness. And so, also today, as my skin muses exhort me: I will go forth into the unknown and make love to dawn’s light. Namorando a madrugada.


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