Nada temas, disse a Mulher ao Anjo que tremia diante da tempestade.
As aves renascem das pedras sob os teus pés, Hora Inclinada de Ânsia.
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Zarathustra and Heraclitus: Always playing with camels and fire in the desert
Only the desert can appease the craving for fullness, only the fire can appease the fear of darkness, only the strongest camels can cross m...
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Maybe birds dream within my Desiring Freedom and cross everything the closures of gardens, hearts, and manuscripts -
Eros, o Noturno. Eros, o Assaltante. Passas as horas sonhando sem nexo: Rende-te ou eu acabo-te! Canta-me ou eu grito! Beija-me ou eu devoro...
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