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Eu posso provar numa pedra preta e trovoada quando eu te beijar. Digo-vos isto, para não te chocar. Não. Estou chocado que ninguém mais tem.
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I can taste a black stone and thunder when I kiss you. I tell you this not to shock you. No. I’m shocked that no one else has.
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notes from the poet:

The author of Beloved, Toni Morrison, was once asked why she writes the stories she does. “Because nobody else is,” was her response. Those four words blew the top of my head clean off when I first read them. They have become my ars poetrica, my reason for doing anything, ever since.

It is an odd experience having a blog almost no one reads (I have, after nearly half a year of posting, 7 readers). A dear friend pointed out that I might gain a wider audience if I refrained from posting “naughty pictures” (not his words, but still) as illustrations to everything I write. That is true; but then I’d need to start a second blog just to post everything I couldn’t say in the cleaner, sanitized, hungry-for-numbers blog.

I tell you this: I treasure those 7 readers more than a small army of readers who look at beauty and see only smut, who are actively part of a world not creating the sort of art I need to have in my life. Blessings to one and all who get it, you are indeed the best of all reasons to get out of bed in the morning.