Poema não-autorizado

Gostaria da permissão para escrever-te um poema
só para mostrar que as palpitações não são vãs.

Às vezes, desafio-me, apanho a caneta,
anoto versos aqui e ali que dificilmente a ti chegarão.

Silencio-te a minha lira, quando sei que podes fugir.
Sinto que sim, quando te afastas para controlar do coração os sopros:
deixas-me aluado, confuso, enervado, solitário.

Just sincerely mine (II)

Less I say,
more I mask myself.
Any suffering,
any soul disturbance,
any misfortune
should be covered
as if just hints of
a tiresome day.

He or she or it
wants to
catch my weaknesses
and, afterwards,
turns them
meaningless;
or just to say,
those were mine,
these are my

bulls…

Several times
I don’t know how to

answer a simple question
indeed.

Perhaps, it’s not
that simple, it’s
complex, and…
captious.

— How are you doing today, then?

It may seem
kindness coming from
him or her or it,

but can most likely
be a strategy to

provoke my decay.
Through my words
what does

he or she or it
wish to
bring about?

Less I say,
more I mask
bulls-hit…
bullsh…
hints of tiresome days.

Just
sincerely
mine.