She does not know how long she was fainted, but when she came back to herself, she remembered the detail of a dream where an angel came to dwell in her soul and bring her the peace she needed. She did not discern his face, but she knew it was Gabriel, and suddenly she knew all she needed to know, got up and went to the bookshelf, searched through the books and discovered a series of texts that he had left her, she knew in the dream where he had hidden them. That set of texts delicately tied with a red silk ribbon where an already dried rose stood waiting to be found, awaited her hands, her eyes and demanded her attention...
I savor you, as if you were drinking a glass of sweet wine and savoring on your inebriated lips the desire to plunge deeper into you. I walk you, as if walking on the softness of paradise, daring to go further, beyond the horizons of mere reality. I feel comfortable in my arms, as if you were always inhabited by them, cradling you in my outline and letting me dream of higher flights, but the truth is that I do not want to climb to the skies, I want to plunge into that river that flows by your body, bathe in the fluids of your pleasure, and let me stay, floating on this blue sea that makes me born in dreams. I begin to learn you, how you learn a book while reading, knowing that you return to the same beach, because you also want to delve into that deep sea of the senses.
Your moth tries my body, silence brings me inconstancy, I wonder why I am here, to welcome you back into my arms. Everything seems to make no sense, to be vague, empty yet intense desire to own you and have you in me. You are fresh morning dew, shine in the eyes when you wake up, light and fascinates, curvature that stimulates all my senses, but you are also a woman and girl, who receives the caress as a comfort that welcomes you and softens your life. Am I just the wind? Placid water and illusion that flies in my mind like a whirlwind? Or, do you feel well inside me, will I be a temple, an extemporaneous passion that numbs your heart? I do not know, I am too small to perceive this enigma that covers the existence of this connection, so I surrender, and I am human, losing myself in your body as if drowning in a gentle stream.
I gave you my world in exchange for the embrace, near, arrived, of those who aspire to the fusion of spirits and the silence of pleasures. Because there is nothing left for me, I gave you my Soul for nothing, because you gave me, in an integral and devoid of all senses, because I adore you above my Self, because it does not make sense to exist if you are not there. If you have already left why am I waiting for you? If you no longer exist, why I persist in inventing you? Come on, break the silence and tell me, explain to me why I survived in this utopia of not finding you, no matter how much I look for you. Let me die in your arms, even if they are imaginary, drawn, recreated from the smoke of fog. Let it fall into the temptation to rediscover a body that infinitely sketches on the white sheet of time. Let it go!
There is in the innocence of the skin a quiet cry that boils within, blood running, fire burning in a body that waits for the groan, for the exact moment of releasing the imprisoned waters of the river of pleasure, which through the gorge will flow. I hold you in your mouth, a word silenced in the moist kiss that unties the bond, promotes nakedness and incites shallow movements, in the meanderings never before revealed, as one who graces the beauty with the delicacy of the one who knows how to taste, at the tips of the fingers taste of the sea. I deflower you with the softness of the silk, with the impetuosity of the waves on the earth, in a mixture of will and art, as if it were my own this vice of awakening in you the shiver, madness and depravity of those who love deeply with the heart.
There was in her an intrinsic beauty, encrusted in the soul like precious stones in a choker. He could not explain if he had not felt an uneasiness from the first hour when he saw her. This whirlwind stirring the blood, making it boil like it was in a furnace. These things cannot be explained, they are felt, they are denoted in the tender, yet provocative look, in the way the lower lips bites while waiting for a verse, a stanza, or the whole poem written in an insane reverie that plagues me. For me there is no pattern to describe sensuality, it is inexplicably beautiful when found in the way that smiles, in the tone of the audacious voice, or only in the way of walking, wobbly or asymmetrical with which the street descends in high heels. I cannot help but to notice it, whether it is near or far, present or absent, asleep or awake, it is always there, whether in the soul or in the mind, stuck in the eye or entangled in a fluttering wind in the late afternoon. I do not know what to do, if I die of love, or if I miss myself!
He stepped into the shower and the hot water rained down on the emptiness, eclipsing the uncovered drain. She felt snugged, her naked body invaded by drops that looked like his fingers, running through her skin that morning of madness. She closed her eyes, wanted to go back to that place where she had felt the most beloved woman on earth in that moment. It has been so long since you could see a face almost like a mirage in the immense desert of life, yet you dare to have it there. Closed in that little cabin, accompanied by the water that rushes over naked bodies, they kiss in the silence, and in a prolonged embrace they are bound, leaving to the free will of the senses the paths to be followed by hands, wet skins and bare wills and raw of a love, there is a lot of sense.
My tongue dips into your lips, like a serpent through the warmth of your mouth, let it slip down your neck, descend to your belly and seek to close your burning body. This tight embrace, crushes the contours by engulfing us in the voluptuous desire to drink from the salty sea of your being. You, docile as the dawn of spring, open to welcome me, deflower of your youthful skin. You are the ultimate challenge for me, the one to whom I trust in this last daydream, to be a man, to be whole, to be ardent and true fire. Come, feel what remains of me to spread through your plain, as the last breath of virility that I expire when I die in your arms.
You deduced my intentionality when you looked at me sideways, everything was evident in the color of my retina, in this contained will to take you, mine, and mine alone. Yet you dissembled, you were to remain as if nothing had happened here. I, unsure, knew no better than to do, to abduct you and to lose myself in the dreamed dreams, or, to keep quiet, to look at you, knowing that it was no longer a prince’s delight for anyone. This dichotomy bit my fingers, and the body, wanting to sin, let itself go in an instant when your past was too close to my tangent, I held you in my arms, not denoting resistance, sense intensity and even a desire to want to stay in me. Then I came to solitude, the mind that broke all this intention from within you to lose me. But when we were back in the same orbit, you were mine, in your face I saw the smile of longing and the same will. Am I blind, or hopelessly in love?
My cupped hand holds the cup of your sacred body, the moment when my fingers discover the way through the tangle that hides your simple pleasure. A girl, a woman, an intense challenge, which will be lost in me, which will burn in my passion, and of a lost kiss in a forgotten time, will bear fruit in the damp womb of the warm body with which you await me. Everything is so strange, I see myself returning in time, to that moment where I met you, in the exchange of smiles and in your daring way to which I caught myself. Now you are here, giving me the nectar of your pleasure, which the tip of my fingers will reap and our mouth taste, as if it seals forever a love that will remain. Your heart beats a thousand, as if it were the first time that everything happened, as if it were your still childish innocence, but the will is already grown and your flower wants for me to be harvested.
The last texts denoted already that he knew he was going to leave, noting that his trip would be to infinity...
Let me be in you, happen, as each day happens, fall asleep every night asleep. I would dwell, if your soul were empty, even though I knew that your body would not belong to me, I would remain, enclosed within the walls of your skin, living within. I know that there will be memories of me in the perfumed pores, when your complexion surrenders to someone else. You will remember me as the echo that reverberates among the mountains, so my voice will echo in your thought and deep inside, the flame that brings you alive will sha
ke as if the wind of my existence passed there so close that you feel the shiver, you heard me in a delicate shiuuu in your ear, and fell asleep in the hope that I was right there. But I’m not, I left when you denied me, when you pushed me out of your life. What remained is the memory, this mnemonic that the longing carries, and without realizing you inhabit already in you, eternally.
There was an attraction for him in the abyss, a mad desire to jump into the void, as if he needed to make sure he still had wings to fly, as if he missed the ability to keep hovering. This eagerness to escape was overwhelming, he wanted to travel through the heavens, to plunge into hell and seek the awakening of passion, to save himself from this harrowing loneliness that consumed the Soul and mortified his body. At night the air was his material work, molding it into hollow images of her body that vanished with the light coming through the crevices of the abandoned windows. He was a dreamer, someone who fed from an almost forgotten past and reverberated into an unreachable future, while spilling lyrics and traces devoted to infinite space, where time did not fit and the absence was only a cold and far-reaching border. Music was the last stronghold, the rhythms were wires that held his frail body, worn by years of unreality, by a match already announced in the wrinkles of a whitish skin that did not lack, to meet his Goddess, his spirit would set off, like a bird, to meet his dreamed love.
Luana had realized that day that even if she died there now, she had been deeply loved not only by a man, but especially by an angel. And from that day on, she never felt sad again, she lived with a smile on her face and a joy in the soul that accompanied her wherever she went, knowing that inside her she carried the greatest love of her life. Gabriel’s letters, as well as the short story that brought them together, were kept, and already old and tired, in a hospital bed, Luana, had given to the eldest daughter, Gabriela, to make public that novel that had never been. Thus the memory of Gabriel and Luana has been perpetuated forever, as pure and deep love must be.
Already published works of the author:
Diário de Sonhos 2009 (2ª edição 2017)
Reflexos d'Alma 2010
O Livro dos Pensamentos I 2011
A Magia das Letras – Aqua 2011
Folhas Soltas 2012
O Livro dos Pensamentos II 2013
Absorvência 2014
Ínfimos 2014
Inflexões 2014
Convexidade 2014
Cartas a Sophia (Romance) 2015
Editions in English, Spanish and French 2017
EVA – O despertar da Alma (Romance) 2015
Edition in English 2017
A Magia das Letras II – Ignis 2015
Conversas com o Pai 2016
O Livro dos Pensamentos III 2016
O enigma do Amor (Romance) 2016
Editon in English 2017
O Druida (Romance) 2016
O oráculo de Vénus (Romance) 2016
The Soul’s book (inglês) 2017
Dissertações Poéticas 2017
Amar só por amar 2017
No silêncio da Noite 2017
O Beijo (Romance) 2017
Palavras de amor 2017
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