domingo, 9 de maio de 2010

Mt. 6.22

"São os olhos a lâmpada do corpo.
Se os teus olhos forem bons,
todo o teu corpo será luminoso".
Mt. 6.22

It's like black water. You can't see and you're afraid to touch.
You can't drink, you can't swallow, you can't swim.
And you don't know why it is so dark.
It's like cold wind. You can't see either but you feel and you're too warm to leave the blanket.
You're too warm to open the door.
It's like a glorious night, with glorious surprises and bewitched failures, followed by nightmares in wet pillows.

And when my pillows get dark and cold and wet, I know:
my steps are going in the wrong directions. The directions: too many to know where to go.
When my mind faces the mirror, I know:
I can't forgive
But I'll live.

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