September 2016
"All those lives you attract.
Like moths into the light.
Everyone's. Mine. You swallow them.
You transform them. You take them off at your will.
“La Piedad” -Mercy- is a statue that only exists abroad.
You do not know her, nor do you suspect that she exists because you only look at yourself.
I look at you too.
Everyone looks at you, everyone admires you, they want you.
The curves of your geography, your sand, your pyramidal rocks. The sea.
The music, which inhabits you as your own breath
I love you, because you make me feel alive when I see those who are not anymore.
Always ready to get up from all the fallings.
You broke up, you mutated, you matured
you laughed at yourself, at the world, at me.
How can you be so perfect and so cruel?
A punch in the face
a blow, always where it hurts the most
and when I can't take it anymore
the ecstasy.
You move like a couple of lovers who fights, because they know that the sex that comes after has a better taste.
Always more intense.
But I just can’t take it anymore.
I take you with me. I carry you wherever I go.
Like the mark of your teeth on my body.
What is left of my soul is yours. You know it.
Won with violence and tenderness.
Give me back the pieces.
I won’t ask you with a “please”. It is not your style.
Your story is used to orders and abuse, my love.
I do not blame you. I feel sorry.
For you. For me.
I'm dying a little bit, but I'm leaving.
Tomorrow we will be stronger.
You and me."
(Rio de Janeiro by Ana Schlimovich)