I wanted to be a writer, that's all. I wanted to write about it all. Everything that happens in a moment. The way the flowers looked when you carried them in your arms. This towel, how it smells, how it feels, this thread. All our feelings, yours and mine. The history of it, who we once were. Everything in the world. Everything all mixed up, like it's all mixed up now. And I failed. I failed. No matter what you start with it ends up being so much less. Sheer fucking pride and stupidity.

Oh we wanted everything, don't we?

[Richard Brown - The Hours]

domingo, 13 de dezembro de 2009

'Juntinho, sem caber de imaginar...'

Que vontade de me enrroscar nos seus cabelos pra dormir
Sentir seu cheiro mais puro entre o fim das costas e a nuca
Trançar minhas pernas nas suas e prender minhas mãos na sua cintura
Passar meu calor junto ao teu corpo, e sentir os calores se multiplicarem.


Que vontade!

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