madrugada sutra

i couldn't sleep until sunday:

these crocodiled dreams

e minha medida

measure life on earth

i saw those white crosses stuck 

in front of bay views and it smells sweet,

a madrugada sunflower. 

some rainbow serpant deity hums behind me and chucks a mango to the sea

and i walk with the skinny yellow light etched sideways between dripping waterfallen trees

the space between green

and those sad eyed leaves

illustrate each other

those ghosts- i opened the white shutters to the window of salvador 

and felt those souls bend down the hills.

all after a bright night lamp burning my knees whispering to him into the hot cracks of my bed:

i saw them all, human beautiful hairy and naked waiting to be set free

then me,

wondering if my shadow is lighter than others 

watching a black haired angel dangle her feet over the sunsetting water

as the wind fish skip to a million guitar chorded sighs 

a cat has been crying all night to the creeping bixo vines

like the young laughter outside a few yesterdays ago

define each other 

lao tzu murakami ginsberg mind song

harmonizes einsteins dreamland with my mantra to be

before those ghosts were there. 

and then somewhere, dimension three maybe,

that hip dance down the street winding through a swelling morning

i let them out but with moonlight in my arches

so we could be together

the angelic egyptian plover bird of the madrugada 

together we all arched our back to the ocean's turn

and let the foam of our sweet saudade saddened lives fall 

to a sleep in the sand

com certeza bomfim smiles to my future orixa:

oracles invisible dance in drunken bullet wounded legs lying lovely together

while the sugar night rain beats my heart to keep

swimming sonhos forever