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Mar 2018
The moon is bigger on the dark side,
But I'm moved by the waves of the bright side.
I hide, but I always know
What is it the I hide,
So what's the point?

Inside my missing spaces
I find my own pieces,
In what empty space I fill me,
If I'm defined by my emptiness?

How do I define me with words
Hollow as a flight in space,
Precise and distant definitions,
Incapable of adjusting to a vague chaos,
Only understandable by the light of a microscope,
Unaccessible to signs,
Dissonant of what I feel,
Of a laughable ungrace?

I run from what defines me,
From my sentimental proofs,
I locate myself in what takes me far from home.

I'm uncapable of recognizing me
For I look in the mirror, and I recognize myself:
I know I never had blue eyes,
I know how my hair was, and how it's not anymore,
I know healed wounds hurt more.

I've lived for 500.000 kilometers
Never counted the travels around my world,
But I keep going,
Map and territory,
Language and message,
Thoughts and actions,
Sailing through matter and frequency
Through the ocean that keeps me apart from the world.
Danilo Brito Steckelberg
Written by
Danilo Brito Steckelberg  29/M/São Paulo
(29/M/São Paulo)   
123
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