(já não escrevia um poema há algum tempo; ilustração de -claro- Dave McKean)

cover

once we open the lid we are
sweet obstacles
ashes and storm within
maelstrom in black and white
fragments of fragmentated seconds
hidden by millenia of silence

we are
once opened
cracked severed mutiladed
we are irre_cover_able
stripped ripped raped
our gift of (true) dark nakedness

we are smoke and shadows and mirrors and sand from the east
we are here
on the dirty floor
on the empty dis_closed bed
on the magnifying glass of the fearful universe

we are so
preciously bound to it
we are it
hidden
inside the book  ¶ 4:59 da tarde