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mother daughter poem

não gire sua cabeça
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
mulher boa
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
carrinho aqui por meu lado
a neve sussurra sobre mim
nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
diz de épocas velhas boas
estourou o vinho feroz
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
eu vi as estrelas as mais orgulhosas
trançado e tecido

 



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