quinta-feira, abril 30, 2015

hometown sonnet

cuyaba is old and cold
in the middle of the bones
different from the heat
that cuts down the downtown trees

cuyaba from this window
it's all i see, somewhere far away
and yet still so inside of me
when i count the streets where we did meet

god bless the ones we care
soon we will die here
and we will die everywhere

with the same blood we lost this way
we will fill our veins
the very next day.
to lola and cuyaba (our dreams meet the same fate someday)

near your family lake i will bend my lungs, there, where the wind turns waters and paths, there i know my thoughts will rest fine. there, where the moon is low and my eyes shiver just for you, beloved and glorious ol' land, there where i know my body will rest fine, there where i'm sure my heart will rest fine.