Their crosses
I am so much and none, nothing guides me,
Secrets? Did not have neither want,
If my life in dreams seasoning
What a damn is after the fantasy.
The mouth that spitting me, that I wanted,
A kiss most atrocious, bold and fierce,
Those mistakes I make, I am generating others,
Leaving besides this utopia...
Dressing absurd nonsense,
Pull out of the older yard roses
And so I leave just thistles and heather
I travel these mountaineer who spent,
And seeing my master, how much wear
I ask if this cross compensates...
RITA DE CASSIA TIRADENTES REIS
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