My stories are sacred, not meant for indiscriminate ears. They are the essence of my being, a tapestry rich with the hues of joy and the shadows of sorrow. Before I part the veil to reveal my inner world, I ask myself, “Who has truly earned the privilege to witness my truth?” I count myself among the fortunate few, for in my orbit are those rare souls who can sit beside me in the stillness of my vulnerability. They hold space for my tales of shame, embracing me not just for my strengths but also for my struggles. Their presence … Continue reading My Stories

Advice for the faint of heart—read what you will, but look into my eyes to read the truth. Here’s what they will say to you: spare nothing, taste everything, touch and feel what’s real. Live as if there’s no tomorrow, speak your mind, and find the hope that springs eternal. But cast no doubt or sorrow upon these eyes of mine, for they are impenetrable—unyielding in their gaze. They have never bowed, nor will they start now. They look outward, they stare, just as yours do. These days, they rarely sleep. They fill with the same desires as yours, harvesting … Continue reading Impenetrable Eyes

May everyone find a love that warms the soul.A safe shelter to rest from this complicated world.Unexpected joys on ordinary days. Someone who waits for you. Someone who misses you. A name above all others. The most beautiful verse. The song you’ll never forget.A partner for every dance. For those who wake up, for those who dream before bedtime.A hand to hold, a shoulder to lean on, a hug to live in. A theme that carries the whole story.A certainty in every doubt.A window glowing in the dark night. A port where you can dock.Calm skies after the storm. A … Continue reading I wish you …

I am a prayer in the confession of poetry. In the folds of my soul, I am the whispered verse, the unspoken plea. I am the gray Sundays and the sunlit Mondays of renewal. Each week, I am the shifting sky, alternating between melancholy and hope. At dawn’s threshold, I wonder—will our thoughts cross paths, will our words entwine? Will you know tomorrow what I will know? Will you be tomorrow who I will become? The flow of time carries my question—will our essences remain synchronized? I wanted to believe so, and I felt it so; I asked and answered … Continue reading Prayer

Na casa de minha infância, jamais se acenderam luzes artificiais de Natal, tampouco surgiram presentes. Reflito sobre isso enquanto contemplo o céu, onde o vermelho e o laranja desvaneceram com o crepúsculo, encobrindo a luminosidade do sol. Meus olhos, repletos de contemplação, acompanham a revoada de pássaros que pinta o céu de negro, como se protegessem a casa de outrora.Sem intenção, mas sem ressentimento, mantenho viva a tradição antiga. Prefiro as luzes celestiais, pois assim meus olhos foram educados. Não sinto falta do brilho metálico das bolinhas de plástico nem do frenesi comercial do Natal. Agradeço por isso. Se as … Continue reading Na Casa da Minha Infância

I should say so much more than I do. I have made promises that have disappeared with the winter, weaved dreams out of desperation. There are constant reminders all around us that nothing is ever constant, that we need to cling on to every opportunity of love and beauty. When I write about the words in my head, my fingers and tongue snarl at my inadequacies. I really wish we could all be kinder to the people around us, and to ourselves (it sounds so simple, it’s not). There are prayers we hum in the dark, things that are hidden … Continue reading June

Il tatto, lo sfiorare… ho comunicato verbi indicibili e soggetti inesistenti con parole umane. Con la punta delle dita ho toccato il cielo e la terra, tra gioie e disperazione. Ho accarezzato, raccolto. Ho lavorato, asciugato lacrime e trasformato queste ultime in sorrisi. Con le mani, accompagnate dalle braccia, ho stretto petti palpitanti di emozioni. Con le mani ho mandato baci, saluti. Nelle mie mani ho piantato, morso le dita e riso a crepapelle. Sono certa: con le mani non ho mai vissuto sensazioni a metà, ho sempre odiato le mezze misure…‘… con le mani ho toccato Te.’ 🤲🏽❤️ ©️ … Continue reading Tra le dita, con le mani ho sempre avuto un rapporto travolgente

Women like you and I find solace in whispered conversations with the stars. We tilt our heads upward, tracing constellations with our eyes, as if seeking answers from the distant luminaries. How rare it is to encounter a soul on this earthly plane that shines as brilliantly as a star. Amidst the mundane, we stumble upon those who radiate—an inner light that defies gravity, pulling us toward them. Their laughter echoes like celestial music, and their kindness leaves trails of stardust in our wake. Yet, there exists a select few—rarer still—whose brilliance surpasses even the full moon. They are the … Continue reading Stardust Conversations

If I could say one thing to my past self, I probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. But if there’s one lesson that has shaped me into a better person, it’s this: ‘be curious.’ Learn everything—especially what lies beyond textbooks and classrooms. Nothing is useless or irrelevant. I used to be the kid who raised her hand in class and asked, “When will we ever use this in real life?” Back then, my friends cheered me on, and I thought it was cool to complain about what we learned. But looking back, I don’t think I truly appreciated the opportunities I … Continue reading Be curious …