Fallen into oblivion

To all the phrases and ideas that once flooded me, without having had the courage or the necessary tools so that they would not fall into oblivion, and that now occupy the place of...

Windows

There is an open window that does not close. A breeze that disturbs the sight that does not end. Beyond, in infinity, the tangible dream subjects itself to the impermanence of days and nights....

From day to day

From day to day I see my hand grow and the cells that multiply in this ode to the triumph of life. From day to day I see my foot growing, and the paths...

Offspring

Warm word with smell and slight weight on the arms. Fingernail and flesh against the precipice of separation. Vigil and hope in a safe and near nook.

Stones from my roof

1. Each step as a fractal path that unfolds in the desert underfoot. Little by little. 2. A diamond is nothing more than a survival mechanism. 3. Yesterday is thousands of years. 4. I...

Writer

A writer lives intensely every written word, in a constant game of search and capture for freedom.

A Grande Sorte

[Sorry, only available in portuguese] #prólogo Eu tive a grande sorte de conhecer o Sr. Roque. #introdução Armando Roque não era, de todo, um homem comum. Nas algibeiras trazia espanto e admiração pelas coisas...

Mouths

At the end of the party, meditation consists of cleaning the mouths of the drunken and revealing glasses, served at the meal. For the more ingrained dirt the nails are used and, sometimes, the...

Existence

One day someone asked me what it was for me to exist. I answered: I don’t know, it’s good, to walk in the world … Today, in my ninety years, I think that to...

Today for today

Golden waves populated by reverent suns are crossed. Along the hot and infinite asphalt, fast breezes roll towards their destination. Micro universes shaped in this peninsular desert, are oases of color and life. Dry...

Micro lake

There was a lake so unbelievably small that no one had ever seen it. It was pondered if it had ever existed.

What do you think?

What do you think of when your body hangs free in the air that embraces and shatters to a point that you do not know how much is breath and how much is wind?

Monday fires

I open the window this warm night. A paraphernalia of light and sound installs in this frame. You are lying in bed and sleepy, so you do not see. You ask me if it’s...

Fase dispersa / A ball

A ball can be many things, but never a cutting object. Is affable. Has shape. Is stable. Is complete. It has no beginning and no end. Lasts. It’s full of something. It makes itself...