In a random page commas ran loose 
the words flowed crooked 
verses composed the story 
in a dark corner 
in Congonhas do Campo city
carmine red lips touched
and paints on the balconies
two pairs of eyes 
and cold and sweet voices 
What is your name? 
in a dark corner 
inescapably 
the fingers escaped, timid 
and the pure sound of the mountains and the light of the heaven 
(bright by the full moon) 
The night was reciting the verses of Quintana…

© Copyright Bia Esmer 

Art: ‘Um beco em Ouro Preto’ by Edgar Walter