quarta-feira, 1 de março de 2017


Por Pedro Du Bois (Balneário Camboriú, SC)

I close my eyes at the sight of cars
lined up on the narrow street
standing at the red light

those which carry us
those which take us and bring us back

the sight is terrifying as it shows
imprisoned people
by closed windows
from locked doors

the red traffic light precedes
the red of the
thrown body

I turn a blind eye to fate
in repetition: I know about the signal
open to the body

wich narrowly escapes.

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