quarta-feira, 21 de setembro de 2016

Halfway


I can feel the threads reweaving,
rebuilding the fortress in the shape
of a blanket that will protect me from
the burdens of another winter,
be it outside my body or inside my soul.

The winds are growling and ever so cold.
My body bowing down, counting the footsteps
in the snow to make sure I am moving.
My socks are blue, and so are my toes.
Halfway to the moon my heart stopped.

Nicole Rodrigues

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