Full breath, Dive deep

I find myself in this paradox of a day, between these canals

the sun making my eyes look ajar,

like sullenly,

 

drinking hot tea

and biting a good attempt of pastel de nata

the wind tangling my hair

 

on an early weekday.

 

And just like this,

I find myself with my legs crossed under a table too tiny for my uncoordinated manners

and I don’t have a clear picture

nor a draft of the path to go,

no sign suggesting whether to turn right or keep stumbling on those familiar errors

that my head doesn’t seem to let go.

 

I don’t have a clue about where I’ll be

or how I’ll fill those hours between goodnight kisses and a quiet breakfast before the house awakes.

I’m sure I wouldn’t be doing things any other way,

not following the tricks given by who knows me by heart,

but following stars calculated to spans

and approximate sums of the shades of coffee in the mug

or of wine on the lips.

 

 

It’s time to take a full breath

and dive deep.

 

I’ve got a swimsuit under my jeans.

 

 

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