domingo, 1 de outubro de 2017


By Pedro Du Bois (Balneário Camboriú, SC)

(Marina Du Bois, English version)

We talked for long hours

as if we were old friends

and our childhoods

needed to be revised

in dreams reached

by the frustrations of the paths

hate and anger at what went wrong

we laughed at old and repeated jokes

and the drink came to our heads

drunk between times

the remaining hours where of silences

scattered looks on the living room      furniture

the constraint in the lack of subject

our pas conversations at the beginning

mismatches imposed by life

in work addiction and families

we were acquainted once


who meet again by chance

with forgotten memories

soon return to their worlds.

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