Combien de larmes seront suffisantes pour me laver des ténèbres où se trouve mon cœur ? Combien faut-il pleurer et, ayant pleuré, me sécher, révélant un côté jusqu’alors immergé dans les tristesses ? Combien de tristesse je chasse et, d’elle, je me renouvelle pour toujours avoir de quoi pleurer ? Combien en moi j’insiste et de moi je renonce dans le même instant ? Combien de moi est mer ? Car je remplis mes peurs quotidiennes que les souvenirs soient faits d’eau et que je me noie à jamais. Combien de moi est aridité ? Car j’ai peur que mes … Continue reading Combien …

I don’t know much about a lot of things.I don’t know how it is governments can poison their own people (or any people).I don’t know how it is children are victims of gunshot wounds at the hands of those who are barely out of childhood themselves who are armed with metal death.I don’t know how as the planet continues to wobble in ways more and more dramatic there is a continued unwillingness to claim culpability for global warming.I don’t know how it became politically incorrect to share sorrows and questions.I don’t know.What I do know is that there is Holy … Continue reading I don’t know …

Why does love fade, she asked me? Well I don’t really think love fades, I think we as people fade and with that goes the feelings we had for others. Love is love, it’s the same feeling, love doesn’t hurt you, people hurt you, that’s the difference. You see like everything else in life, we get used to something, it does not seem exciting to us anymore, and there lies the problem. Our love for someone fades because love needs constant feeding, constant boosting, livening up from time to time. We get in such a routine in our lives and … Continue reading Why does love fade?

I can love here, quietly, until there are no days left. I can love in hopes, the hours, the air, even people in their smallness, in their ignorance, and sometimes their greatness… I cannot stop my wandering soul by wanting be whole and believing in a better world. ❤️ Continue reading Here

A nation stands upon the soil like a child on the shoulders of a giant—lifted, supported, held aloft by the strength beneath it. The soil, rich and teeming with life, is the silent architect of civilizations, the canvas where history unfolds. But when a nation turns against its own land, it wounds itself in ways beyond measure. It is a betrayal of the very ground that nourishes and sustains it. Forests, those towering sentinels, are the lungs of our world. With each rustling leaf, each whispered breeze, they weave the delicate balance of life, turning carbon into oxygen—offering fresh breath … Continue reading The Covenant with the Earth

… and for the first time in my life, rather than happiness — than bliss — I would have this contentedness, the soft ochre light spilling like milk over the floorboards, knowing that this ordinary day could be so much, that the kitchen counter — a bowl of fruit; a warm cup of coffee; leftover soup — could be enough. that I can take a train into the city any time. That I have these words to keep me company. That if everything else falls away, I will have my memories. Ouro Preto, where I would wake up in the … Continue reading 1984 — Ouro Preto, MG

This is more for me than for the world. This is what I’ve written on my wall. “You have to love words. Like anything that you want to get good at, you have to love what you’re doing. And in order to truly love words, learn them. Search for books, hunt down your friends’ library stacks and read everything. Read when you’re brushing your teeth, read when you’re on the subway, read when you’re in the middle of a lecture and all you want to do is to fall asleep. And always be watching the world. The way people speak. … Continue reading Write

after it has given itself completely to us,the bright Sun will collapse into a black hole.We take its warmth and grow for ourselves,not worried about the shrinking, dying source.We are a war-race, a survivor-species, death-homes,we do not love with reflecting hearts.One day, we will have eaten up all the warmth of the Sun and will watch it collapseunder the pressure of its own emptiness,all the while the grieving Sun is thinking “I was so full, I was so full,”Lesson: You have to be careful when you love something fullyor it will leave you empty, ray-thief. Be careful of your bleeding … Continue reading You see, one day,

The first time we collided into each otherI mapped the geography of your scars;soft in your sides roared into rippling waveswhen I travelled across the sea of your bodyAnd you became a waterfall meandered throughthe valley of my breasts,past the sandbanks of my navelveering towards the rocks indenting my hip bones.I gazed into the cerulean windowsditched behind your eyelids,Moonlight never looked this beautifulcascading onto the gilded class of your eyes…❤️ ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading April 29, 2010 at 3 AM

I find myself yearning for the days of yore, for the vigor of my 30s, when the world seemed full of possibilities, ripe for change. It was a time when my heart was ablaze with the fire of ambition, and my arms strong enough to bear the weight of dreams. I long for that relentless drive, that insatiable desire to sculpt the very essence of the world, to leave an indelible mark upon the sands of time. I wish to recapture that fearless spirit, to stand once again tall against the gales of doubt, unflinching in the face of adversity. … Continue reading Yearning for My 30s