Written by: Bruna Monteiro (@espalhepoesia)
Translate by: Rascunho-Draft
I read and reread our conversation about five times, I did not find the error, I do not know where I went wrong, it seemed to be okay, and the next moment you disappeared. I should already have expected that its standard is this, spectacular entries, with flowers and chocolates wearing the most beautiful smile and most foul of all, and soon after a meaningless end, like those films that end in the middle of the story, without giving a reasonable explanation, and who watches only asks: that’s it? This is you, and I know by heart, I know all its faults, I know the lies told, the ragged excuses that come later, but I confess that lately I have been surprised, because the excuses are increasingly scarce, giving way to the disturbing silence . I struggle once more in that instant to seek something in my memory that may have made you turn away, but again I can not find out. Our last meeting was amazing, the best sex we’ve ever had, I know that every time it’s better than the previous one, but last week was something that surpassed everything we’ve ever done, because I was sure, thinking that I would not leave his arms so soon, despite to have made it clear that he did not want to be in a hurry, and to have asked to take one step at a time, so that this time there would be no end. But you completely run away from any pattern, from any line of reasoning, you do not make sense, I sleep thinking that everything is fine and according to the twisted world. What was missing in this story? What is wrong with me? Is there anything in this life that will make you stay and quit games?