today the sun rose in my legs
and I trapped it in a square
tough as it might have been
eventually all lines fell in to place
and so she drowned with no legs to walk
the lake became her house
the house became her tomb
and so I shall pay for the cheer crime
of making a line around a light
and the pride of calling it mine
Ps: Lines of light in my skin of lines.
As lines are everything and everything its infinite.
I prevail... as an infinite line.
drawing: Rita Matos
photography and text: Susana Wessling e Maria Ferreira
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