NÃO TE METAS NA VIDA ALHEIA SE NÃO QUERES LÁ FICAR

Recebi na minha caixa do correio um postal que veio de Inglaterra e trouxe um poema. Assim que conseguir alugar, por uns minutos, o scanner da Pilar ou da Sofia mostro-o ao mundo...aqui! Até lá podem ler o que o Michael (e não é o Carreira!) escreve, no blog fig crumbs. E ele escreve tão bem...

They planned their first kiss in a state of
absolutely untouchable elation.
At first it was just a flirty joke,
a choppy, sarcastic discussion of the basics:
Duration, spontaneity,
hair ruffling,
gusto,
nibbles.
Then, as it became clear that it was actually going to happen,
they flung themselves in,
giddily meticulous.
They collected stories from friends and family
about their first kisses,
memories of the build up,
the minutes or years just before,
the movement in,
the moment,
the thoughts during,
and all the afterwards.
They met every evening to discuss possibilities,
and sometimes just to sit and
look at each others lips.
Silent staring for twenty minutes.
Thirty minutes.
Little smiles,
thirty five minutes.
Bigger smiles,
thirty six minutes.

Thirty seven minutes.
Explosions of laughter.
Ecstatic shopping for lip balm.
Letters to-ing and fro-ing about pouting.
Telegrams on ideal humidity.
Earlobe memos.
They hired a couple of actors to go through their plans,
dressing them in the clothes they’d be wearing and
running over the lines in the designated spot.
They held hands, grips squeezing as the actors kissed.
It was decided that cheesy fireworks would be fun and
a faint smell of coconuts should be drifting by.
The landscape was going to completely change too.
During the kiss, between eyes closed and eyes open,
hundreds of thousands of tiny paper snowflakes
would be flung by friends and well wishers hiding behind
trees, post offices, etc.
Finally, after a year of planning, the day came.
6 August, 1945.
They met at 8am (the most beautiful light)
and spoke for fifteen minutes as planned.
Then, a pause.
Tiny turbulence.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Are you?" "Yes."
"Come a little closer."
“I’m sorry?”
“Don't you remember? Come a little bit closer.”
“A bit closer?”
“A tiny bit closer.”
“Just a bit...”
"And a little bit..."
They kissed, and as they kissed the sky burst with light and the strangest, most peculiar feeling. They looked at each other. Both tried to raise a confused smile but it was impossible. These were completely new feelings. Utter confusion. Their stomachs were churning, their skin was scorching, their eyes melting. The buildings around them were gone, screams began, Hiroshima had been destroyed.

NÃO TE METAS NA VIDA ALHEIA SE NÃO QUERES LÁ FICAR

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