It's all so pathetic
when all of a sudden
we're an image in halves
and our poor selves
become just a page
engraved and torn
marqued cards in store
so deep in the heart
or falling apart
in the commotions
of our emotions
confused
diffused.
So then, my love
we become mere lines
of a poem with no rhymes;
so may our remembrance
be of this just one face
and in its place
may we burst into laughter
and may shine lights right after
in the sky bright and blue
of this poem: We Two.

Cissa de Oliveira, 2003

Translated by © Dalva Agne Lynch