Longes e pertos

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O tempo o faz cada fez melhor. Longes dos anos em que eu caminhava em Porto Alegre para ouvi-lo. Moinhos de passado. Em ventos de agora. Tento manter minha sanidade, e a minha sanidade reside em ser louca.

LIVROS NO QUINTAL
Vitor Ramil

Viu a noite no portão
Cortou os fios de luz
Esvaziou a caixa d'água
Até amanhecer

Amassou o carro
Deu o vinho aos animais
Espalhou a louça
Em mil pedaços no jardim

Pôs os livros no quintal
Rezando pra chover

Arranhou os discos
Descolou a forração
Arrastou cadeiras
Pelo chão do corredor

Recortou nas roupas
Este rosto que ela tem
De olhos bem abertos
Sabedores do que vêem

Pôs os livros no quintal
Rezando pra chover

E choveu

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