"You are where my gaze begins to ache..." ~ Eugénio de Andrade

[a] The body, by weight of air held between our touching skins, recognizes the border of its need. The eye, given to dreaming in black and white, however, seeks the farthest blue immensity in your's.

[b] Rain this summer morning: these rusty walls, the endless black roads, sagging fences and wild weeds, roses in small window ledges all drink. The tongue, that mongrel of languages, however, lies curled up in its dark corner, unslaked.

[c] Music is heard in the stairwell, drumbeats like escaped convicts gallop from under closed doors. The heart too climbs its spiral stair. However, no one today, including myself, can bear to hear its erratic wail.