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May 2014
I

Write parnassian verses under my skin,
because today I don't want something meaningful,
but detailed and rational.
I'll be impassible, but objective.

Nobody was never as memorable as you,
maybe for having been someone sincere.
So sincere that even I recall your poems:
loose phrases in old papers.

I feel like we've never met
when suddenly we began
to seek perfection of words.

I feel like we've been lost
inside a world
which doesn't value us.

II

Write symbolist verses under my skin,
because today I don't want something realist,
but dreamlike and mysterious.
I'll be suggestive, but subjetive.

Nobody was never as sentimental as you,
maybe for having been someone crazy.
So crazy that even I admire your lack of lucidity,
declaimed by sung verses.

I feel like we've never met
when suddenly we began
to reject our own reality.

I feel like we've been lost
inside a world
which doesn't satisfy us.

III*

There's no perfection in those verses
just like there are no colors in that life.
And I feel like we've been lost
when, in fact, we've been free,
because we're freer
when we're alone.
Jonas Gonçalves
Written by
Jonas Gonçalves  Brazil
(Brazil)   
560
 
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