Nos Duas

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Fizemos amor todo o dia. Desde que chegaste ate o momento em que te vi partir. Havia em ti o cetim na pele e um sorriso quase continuo. E um tanto de intensidade no se dar e em me querer. Criavas em mim o momento certo: nem mais, nem menos. Ninhos de passaro em meu cabelo, sumo de vida entre minhas pernas. Tamborilavam dentro de mim os ecos desse amor quase roubado. Eu nao tinha certezas para te ofertar. E tu nao tinhas a liberdade de voltar para mim quando. E entao eu me perguntava de quando em quando... quanto tempo a gente tem? Hoje. Talvez nem isso. Mas a gente viveu nos bracos uma da outra. E esse viver e agri-doce. Tem que ser bom enquanto dure. Pode durar uma tarde, uma noite. Um dia. E tem importancia que nao dure? Tem. Existe uma beleza imensa nas coisas construidas atraves do tempo. Mas tambem existe beleza em construir algo no vies do tempo. Correndo contra o tempo. Talvez a gente aprenda e usufrua mais uma da outra ao saber que nao pode durar. Mas me incomoda isso. De nao poder jogar com todas as cartas na mesa. De nao saber ate quando vai nos bastar o vinho, o amor molhado e doce, e a temporalidade da nossa realidade. E entao eu silencio. E nao te procuro. E te ignoro. Porque nao quero ser intensa e me entregar toda para ti. Nao queres uma sombra. Nao queres um fardo. Talvez nao queiras um grande amor. Talvez ja tenhas um grande amor. E queiras apenas uma amante.

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