mort mot juste

junho 30, 2006

left your coat and my hopes to soak outside

when it is this cold, don't expect any landscape changes. you tend to listen
to the same sound until you forget.
whirlybirds razorblade across the wind, sun invades the room,
morning hums its continuous line.
there is past present now and oblivion
but you don't get to choose the melody.
lovers tend to sit alone
poets think they're poets when the morning's gone.
window's filled with roof tops
red descending friendly
you missed a murmur,
now my truth is cut in half.
whispers lie in feelings' deathbed
i tried tried tried to warn
now make up your best goodbye.
there is no such thing as a crow in the city
there is no such thing as color in the winter
enjoy the morning smoke.

maria 10:57 AM 5 vociferando estavam

junho 28, 2006

crazy race around the sun

your outerspace is green, i'm sure by the time morning comes it's gone, too.
your visions fade. their salty beaches moonlit, looking grey, what a waste of fuel my red-headed babe. fishermen lost somewhere inside that picture that turned out darker than you expected. it doesn't feel like a song anymore. i hear their rush, get their dirty sand in my eyes as i walk and i believe to be sitting. the ocean refuses to reflect and the bodies move around it. look up. sorry if i made your eyes hurt. this is nothing but me trying to say hello. mock it, embrace it, turn your back on it, as you please. your world is lost and so is mine, but we're spinning along with the land.

the vault of heaven bleeds. it's gonna be a sunny week, travellers.

maria 7:55 PM 1 vociferando estavam

ao rés da fala