Altos e Baixos

It was who knows
This record
That streak of shadow on your eyelashes
Went or not my poem to the floor
Or maybe
Our children

The sandals with such high heels
The clock ticking
The Sun sets
The watch, the sandals
And I hit your face
And the fall of such high heels

Upon our children
As I ray of blood on the floor
From that streak on your eyelashes

There were too many records
Too many apologies
These afternoons are already late, and so are your classes
My taxis, whiskey
Diethyl, Diempax

Ah, but we must praise ourselves between highs and lows
Love when it brings so much life
That even dying takes too long

That even to die
It takes too long