Sob arcos, olhos
quase fechados.
Manhã. Cabeças
de pedra.
Árvores —
ao fundo —
e a quaresmeira
lilás. Aqui,
a sensação de nunca
ter estado lá.
In Ossos de Borboletas
Sob arcos, olhos
quase fechados.
Manhã. Cabeças
de pedra.
Árvores —
ao fundo —
e a quaresmeira
lilás. Aqui,
a sensação de nunca
ter estado lá.
In Ossos de Borboletas
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