magoski
rain
soft,
luminous,
honest—
smell the moist earth,
the wet hum
beneath the ruin,
and I cannot help
but feel desire,
here,
now,
with you.
Les oiseaux
crient—
non pas peur,
mais reconnaissance.
Ils nous voient.
They see us.
nomeando o vento
como se fosse sagrado—
naming the wind
as if it were sacred,
as if it carried
the truth
we were too shy
to say aloud.
And here
in this trembling
broken
holy
sky,
I choose you
again
and again
and again—
in every language
the air
knows how to speak.
Favorite track: l'arrivée de l'orage dans la région du sertão.