The sky was dark and clear, all stars up. She had braided hair and a red dress on, looking through the window of her bedroom she saw the dark night. Life in the castle was very pleasant, good hearted people, sometimes not so much, no physical needs, perhaps financial needs but nothing too serious... everything in its place. The new boy came from far away to work for the lord, he was beautiful, all dark and well built, he had the brown eyes and the hair, just as she pictured. She would wander through the gardens and day dream of that one, the one she read about on books who would, with his dark passenger on his ear, take her away from that reality that was so unbearably real. Luck, love and wealth, all in a very distinctive way. The boy was charming and clever, he knew a lot about the trees and the animals, he knew everything there was to know about nature. He would walk around shirtless making her blush everytime, she'd laugh at his jokes and the way he'd make fun of her braided hair. " Isn't that the way a proper girl should be?" she asked him, he said: "well, if a proper girl is what you are then, you probably shouldn't be talking like that to a servant, or letting him wash your hair at night, or wish he had a darker secret then the color of his trousers... you know miss, maybe your not that proper after all." She laughed and thanked him for his honesty and that kind of behavior for he was the only one who would truly see her beyond the braids.

The days passed as if nothing else in the world was happening but them. They played under the moonlight and she began to notice that the boy had traces of a man by the way he would look at her sometimes, you see, it is noticeable for a girl when a boy becomes a man for only they can actually feel the transition. It is in the way the eyes stop acting so surprised and more analytic, how their hands feel tougher instead of soft and touch becomes stronger. It is when you are held by man and you feel safe as if nothing, at that moment, could harm you or even reach you. It is when, instead of awkwardness, you feel freedom and, instead of frustration, you get expectation. A true man could stop a hundred horses with a scream, make a hundred servants with his posture, a hundred days of happiness with his mouth and a hundred years of love with a look. In the meantime, as a boy who's becoming a man, he would let her know with his eyes that, soon, he would be complete in all matters you can be. She let her hair down and got closer to him, staring straight into his soul, she tried to tell him but knew it wasn't the time. Not yet. His voice would change as he told her about the spirit of a flower, how it grows and listens to you, how it responds to your caring. She cared for nothing else but the higher of his being, she could not wait until he was complete, she had the need to savor the child in him before it was gone. Their lips touched and his eyes became surprised and his touch was soft for the last time. At that moment, she understood that, a girl only senses the transition of a boy becoming a man, because she acts as the trigger object and joins him on the same path. It is when a girl turns a boy into a man that she, herself, becomes a woman and, in this explosion of a moment, there is a glimpse of sadness for knowing what will never be the same and the responsibility one carries when being a part of such event.

They looked at each other as completely new beings and, all that doubt and questioning that would torment them before, it was all gone. All that was left was the urge and need to have more so their lips collapsed again, now as man and woman, his touch was stronger and his chest was home. Together they became one and discovered that, once that point was reached, even if far away, they would never be apart.





to be continued

castigo

tuas mãos sujas, calejadas, esfarrapadas
deixam digitais nos meus olhos, pele e cabelos
te quero fora e exorcizado de mim, mesmo que só por hoje
só pra poder lembrar do tempo em que eu sonhava por ti
esquecer de mim nos teus bracos e tirar de ti a vida
assim como gostaria de tira-la de mim
tuas declarações nunca foram suficiente, nem as tuas, nem as tuas, nem as tuas...
quando a musica muda, muda a cor, o cheiro, o sentir
e me da vontade de ser tua de novo
e de curar teus calos e secar teu suor
"o esforço acabou" dizer no teu ouvido baixinho: it's already over
enquanto tu te esperneias e gritas para que não o solte
e então
eu te observo cair
e o teu olhar se tornou sereno durante o trajeto ate o chão
nesse segundo eu vi que tu compreendias e me perdoavas por te-lo amado tanto
e eu vi tua vida sair do teu corpo num leve sopro
sorri e me senti completamente amada por saber que tu serias sempre meu e que, mesmo sem vida, teus olhos seguiriam, sempre, olhando pra mim.


o trajeto de volta pra casa foi como se, a cada passo, um pedaço de mim se perdesse pelo caminho.
atravessei o campo de flores sob o luar, rodopiando e dançando feito menina em sonhos dourados.
cantava teu nome e a cada silaba saboreava como se o dissesse pela primeira vez.
engraçado como o nome da pessoa amada se torna enfeitiçante. como se tivesse o poder de materializar-lo ali em minha frente. então peguei em tua mão e deixei que me levasse ate um trajeto mais escuro.
ficou frio, gelado e muito, muito escuro. então cai. cai e rasguei a palma.
vi o sangue e então eu vi, vi que estava sozinha e o sangue não era meu.
de repente, um buraco abriu-se dentro de mim pois percebi que não estavas ao meu lado, nem jamais voltaria a estar
ao dar-me conta do ocorrido, pus me a chorar lagrimas frias que de nada me adiantavam
comecei a correr, eu tenho medo do escuro, do desconhecido e de qualquer coisa sem ti.
enquanto corria, pedia perdão, pedia que viesse me socorrer, que nunca mais faria aquilo de novo, prometo!
cheguei ate os trilhos de trem, nos quais tantas vezes nos despedimos e tu partias para tao longe...
e agora o longe se transformou em nunca mais, e o amanha se transformou em pra sempre.
soluçava e gritava aos ventos que jamais me perdoaria, que jamais me deixaria amar outra vez, que preferia a morte a ter de viver sem minha vida.
a luz me cegou, interrompeu minha fúria
olhei para a luz e então te vi, não a tua materialização mas tu, de verdade, caminhando em minha direção.
tu sorrias, sorrias aquele teu sorriso leve e bandido.
era o perdão
então eu corri, corri em tua direção, em direção a minha luz e então... como que num baque surdo, eu estava em teus bracos e eu te beijava o peito, como se nunca mais fossemos nos soltar
uma lagrima rolou, estava feliz e me senti amada pois, agora sim, tu serias sempre meu mas, por estar eternamente abracada em ti, jamais veria, novamente, teus olhos olhando pra mim.