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Graça Costa
1,697 followers -
WHO AM I ?
WHO AM I ?

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CREPÚSCULO
Carregava o crepúsculo no olhar, quase fardo, quase dor, quase esperança. Como numa melodia de saudade, sussurrava palavras de silêncio envoltas em lágrimas, e seu corpo ondulava como numa quase perfeita imagem de oração. Ela carregava o crepúsculo no olhar...

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João Costa Rosa
Portugal
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João Costa Rosa
Portugal
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João Costa Rosa
Portugal
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Bom dia.
Good morning.
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Here I am,
crushed in the desire of who I am
and of what remained after you;
curled up on the wail of hope
who died before being sea.

Here I am,
with the thirst on the edge of skin
and hidden hunger in reason that is no longer there.

Story unwritten, although dreamed,
unlived, yet already felt,
designed at dawn deflowering the night.

Here I am in this passage of me
in this search of us
and of each tomorrow we invented,
on every morning.

Here I am,
in the splendor of nudity in late afternoon
waiting for the magic touch,
of your skin,
on my skin.


© Graça Costa

Here I am,
crushed in the desire of who I am
and of what remained after you;
curled up on the wail of hope
who died before being sea.

Here I am,
with the thirst on the edge of skin
and hidden hunger in reason that is no longer there.

Story unwritten, although dreamed,
unlived, yet already felt,
designed at dawn deflowering the night.

Here I am in this passage of me
in this search of us
and of each tomorrow we invented,
on every morning.

Here I am,
in the splendor of nudity in late afternoon
waiting for the magic touch,
of your skin,
on my skin.


© Graça Costa

Here I am,
crushed in the desire of who I am
and of what remained after you;
curled up on the wail of hope
who died before being sea.

Here I am,
with the thirst on the edge of skin
and hidden hunger in reason that is no longer there.

Story unwritten, although dreamed,
unlived, yet already felt,
designed at dawn deflowering the night.

Here I am in this passage of me
in this search of us
and of each tomorrow we invented,
on every morning.

Here I am,
in the splendor of nudity in late afternoon
waiting for the magic touch,
of your skin,
on my skin.


© Graça Costa

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URGÊNCIA
Digam-me como conter a urgência ? O que fazer quando sentes a pele rebentar de emoções, e as palavras a borboletearem-te na cabeça, incessantes, intensas, frenéticas ? Digam-me como conter a urgência de ternura ? Como pedir, sem pedir lábios carnudos e sede...

Let your skin be my road to heaven.
Let your lips be my dream to wonderland.
Let your body be the alphabet of love in disguise
of laughter,
of whispers,
of shivers,
of surrender.

My body is your shelter.
My touch the seed of love.
My eyes cross rough frontiers
just to caress your soul.

Take me,
to that place where streets have no name;
to that magic place that changes when we make love.
The sun shines stronger,
the rain is sweeter
and time stops
just to let us dream.

Take me
for I'm longing to your touch.


©Graça Costa
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