Isa Soares

I stand in the ring in the dead city and tie on the red shoes. Everything that was calm is mine, the watch with an ant walking, the toes, lined up like dogs, the stove long before it boils toads, the parlor, white in winter, long before flies, the doe lying down on moss, long before the bullet. I tie on the red shoes. They are not mine. They are my mother’s. Her mother’s before. Handed down like an heirloom but hidden like shameful letters. The house and the street where they belong are hidden and all the women, too, are hidden. All those girls who wore the red shoes, each boarded a train that would not stop. Stations flew by like suitors and would not stop. They all danced like trout on the hook. They were played with. They tore off their ears like safety pins. Their arms fell off them and became hats. Their heads rolled off and sang down the street. And their feet – oh God, their feet in the market place - their feet, those two beetles, ran for the corner and then danced forth as if they were proud. Surely, people exclaimed, surely they are mechanical. Otherwise… But the feet went on. The feet could not stop. They were wound up like a cobra that sees you. They were elastic pulling itself in two. They were islands during an earthquake. They were ships colliding and going down. Never mind you and me. They could not listen. They could not stop. What they did was the death dance. What they did would do them in.

Isaías, Antigo Testamento, IS, 16:2

Isaías, IS, 16:2, Como pássaro espantado, lançado fora do ninho, assim são as filhas de Moabe nos vaus do rio Arnom. Elas dizem a Judá:

Jeremias, Antigo Testamento, JR, 22:19

Jeremias, JR, 22:19, Como se sepulta um jumento, assim o sepultarão: será arrastado e lançado para bem longe, para fora dos portões de Jerusalém.`

Apenas uma masoquista poderia amar tamanho narcisista

Você não pede pela verdade. Você retira ela, implacavelmente, em busca da resposta que procura. (Annalise Keating)

"A semeadura é opcional, já colheita é certa". Trabalho árduo e perene, orai e vigiai, porque a Lei do Cosmo é implacável!

Eu sinto que às vezes as pessoas devem ser respeitadas apenas por estarem vivas e existindo.

o amor se esconde nas pequenas coisas. E por elas ele aumenta !

Quando amamos alguém, não deixamos essa pessoa nos destruir, não permitimos que nos arrastem na lama. Tentamos ajudar, tentamos salvá-la, mas quando o amor se torna uma via de mão única, se continuarmos tentando, estamos fazendo papel de bobos.

Para quê mentir, fingir que perdoou... tentar ficar amigos sem rancor... A emoção acabou, que coincidência é o amor a nossa música nunca mais tocou.