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Eyes of wet rain face of frozen wind body of lost soul at the price o rain in the wind's taste. Olhos de chuva molhados rosto de vento gelado corpo de alma perdido ao preço da chuva ao sabor do vento. by Armando TABORDA, in "MANUAL DO DESPERDÍCIO",

I wait the mildness of a quite night for my pain fall asleep in the space's cradle I may yawn before an opera of stars the music is always the same celestial chorus dumb virtual the space immense fits light-years of distance and my pain

The navigation starts by nightfall and slows down at night magnificent of solitude global nothing at the empty sockets even from blue eyes the sky also uncoloured once the optical illusion sees blue everywhere or maybe green upon my