It Should All Go Wrong Pt 2

It did all go wrong
its obvious end.

Our chance taken on the brittle words
that brought us together -shattered and disowned.
Leaving us as before…
Bereft of the other.

I retreated from our union,
jabbing thistles in our bond
ringing an alert of a union awry.

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Lyon, London ou Brazil

Si je parle français ?
La vie à Lyon,
au Croix Rousse même.
Ici Je dessin le coeur des figures
qui me passent,
une plume à main
un piccolo à l’autre.

Ou viver no Brazil
Tomando um café e escreve em Portugues.
Minha língua dançando samba,
como bossas tropicais lavar sobre mim.
Minha alma de ouro do sol equatorial.

I sit here in passage
an architect of sand castles,
creations washed away
as I construct another.