tenho o tempo da terra

Ontem ao levantar da cama tropecei e caí de boca em um conto. Deixei para escrevê-lo quando a internet existisse. Este seria o momento, caso eu não tivesse sido acometida por essa queda de pressão, por essa consciência repentina de tantas impossibilidades, por esse tapa de fraqueza e por esse vislumbre de uma possível construção que destoa do mundo, por ser lenta. E por essa imediatez que em mim não tem resposta. Em mim esse impulso não tem resposta. Em mim essa bela rosa entregue, pedida, desesperada, não tem resposta. Não tem resposta imediata. Se deixares que eu germine, serás estão o primeiro que soube esperar o tempo do Sol. Enquanto tudo se dá nesse tempo impulsivo, ainda estou sentada olhando as estrelas.

"go easy on me, I can´t help what I´m doing"

I am the lady of the morning after
I am a person of the morning after
I am the little girl of the morning after.

A love, to me, must be first lived, then real
First gained, then laid out, like fire-wood for the winter.

I am the lady of the morning after
My bed is that which will be made, as he has left.
As he has left, I had started the building of our tower.
I have no will and I blossom no earthly stems at night
I but allow my soul to wander, to magically transform into water
At the peak of the first night.

Man lays his herd, Man lays his kingdom
On the first bed, of the first clearing of the woods:
In the first place where his maiden has cleared the leafs,
Has let her soul wander, has leapt towards a glass of water with no
no intentions.

Man lays on the bed of the night, Man marries the first night
Man loves and proclaims his kingdom in my bed
And I am not but listening to the stars
To the words of the gods that say “yes”
That say “follow”. I am not, yet, his.
Man offers, presses his gold on the house I have not yet built
I am the lady of the morning after.
I awake to make the bed where I will dream
I awake to create the fields of wheat
-the fields we have dreamed together, as plans-
I awake to embrace, knitting Penelope´s sheets,
That which has already taken place.

I need the time of the Sun.
Man has left the bed.
Man has gone to his Day.
Man has lived what I have planned.
Man has lived the mid-summer night´s dream I dreamt.
While my eyes, wide-shut created the sketches of this day,
Man has lived it,
frighteningly laid his entire naked body
On this real love, on this moment before my love.
On this plan of love.
I am the lady of the morning after
The night was the dream in which I planned
The night was the womb in which I carried the imaginary love
The love that Man lived.
I now awake to this reality
I then awake to live the dream I had at night,
To live that which it was too soon to embrace
I now awake to make our future bed
But Man has left.
Man has lived and loved while I dreamed and planned
The love I´d love,
The morning after.
I am the lady of the morning after.


E parece que ha apenas essa sórdida divisão entre os que assustam-me, e fujo... E os que acabam de amar, antes mesmo que eu comece.

As tuas rosas são atiradas aos montes, aos meus lábios e aos vermes.
As minhas rosas... têm caule, raizes, têm roseiras.

Amanhã, o conto. Meu corpo ainda treme o esquecimento do jantar. Procrastine-me, outra vez, pelo bem da sede.