sexta-feira, 11 de maio de 2012


The key is not sharing.
I am the daughter´s fault.
We swim in opposite directions.
At the meeting there is no merger.
We got lost in the gates.
We are distant islands.
Castaways who swim against the current.
Two rivers without tributaries.

Losses and gains sleeps in my bed .
My fragments live in indecent intimacy.
I´m process and transition.
I ´m a patchwork of various sizes.
Immeasurable love without composure.
Expelled arbitrary fear.
But do not fool me his lack of candor.
I don´t wire the wires that weave you.

Nathalia Leão Garcia
May 11th 2012.


I learned to inhabit my lonely emotion. I write to my imaginary son. The same fictional childhood´s companion. I live in the point ...