Maicon
You and your best friend in the middle of the night a few beers and some 🍀 two very lazy bodies laughing and tangled outside the lilac streetlights were losing power and the night became your cave of skin, breath, and touch — a quiet thing, slow as a visit by moonlight on the river my nails dug into your back as if searching for the exact coordinates of the inside of your soul I wanted so badly to memorize childhood while the sheets twisted beneath us for fleeting moments turning into ruins I always let the two of us accumulate if we gave you the chance — eventually we’d find out that in the bottom drawer of end table Nº 07 against which our small hours merged in profane vibration three mummified dolls dream and shrink to dust (I only come now — after all the times after that night — to write a poem from what didn’t unfold today) already at four in the morning my thigh sleeps over yours again and time takes its wrong turn (here somewhere it got too) and remains like an echo of rooms — of bodies — (the past like red wine like ashes how to return before the beer sleeps with the sun and and an illicit cigarette in the street dead of dawn) maybe we whispered in the same tongue of exhaustion tenderness the great illusion ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ hand sinking into hair beer bed heathen solitude to lick
Sobre Maicon
You and your best friend in the middle of the night a few beers and some 🍀 two very lazy bodies laughing and tangled outside the lilac streetlights were losing power and the night became your cave of skin, breath, and touch — a quiet thing, slow as a visit by moonlight on the river my nails dug into your back as if searching for the e...Leia mais