Oh my dear Brasil:
Every time I think I know you,
You pull me over to another reality.
***
At once, I feel my temperature rising.
But while I wish it were a warm wash of romance,
It is all too often rage.
***
Is it a purposeful jabbing?
Do you do it out of mystery?
Or is it simply the “Brazilian Way?”
***
Can I entice you to show me
Why you must remain ever hidden?
Or will I say goodbye for a year, perhaps a decade?
***

I ask you this.
And you look to me. Wondering
If I am bluffing.
***
I assure you: I am not.
Do I continue to practice my Portuñol?
Or will you continue to reject my advances?
***
I will give you another day
To make up your mind.
After that, you can meet me up north.
***
This is getting old and so am I.
Waiting for you to meet me,
In the middle, somewhere.
***
(written in Brasilia, after a flight through Rio de Janeiro)
beautiful writing ❤️
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