segunda-feira, 14 de maio de 2012


Live a love of solitude made
You do not share yourself
I pretend to play by your side.

I´m an archaeologist trying to open your sarcophagus,
I read the hieroglyphs that not decipher you.
Are you a Sphinx and devours me completely.

Poetry is your best side.
But lives buried in the dust of thy days
Under the rubble of their routine.

I´m isolated miles away from any inhabited land.
The only bridge remaining between us is poetry.
Your diaphanous tissue I can not touch.

You live in somnambulistic state.
I´m the Corpse Bride
I catch meager crumbs.

I try to save me raising my compassion.
Maybe so you do return to the living world?
I hope the triumphal arch could help our ressurection.
Where I´ll wait for you with all my love.

May 14th , 2012.
Nathalia Leão Garcia


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