vazios em plenitude.

Por Ana Paula Perissé

                                         nada do que escrevo
                                         faz sentido
                                         apenas ausência
                                         plena
                                         e
                                         bailante de signos:
                                         (quase fálicos)
                                         reminiscências
                                         do retorno
                                         do Outro.


                                         o tempo é esquálido -
                                         está em dieta de Chronos
                                         1' banquete
                                         sem oferenda.


                                         (escrevo no vazio
                                         que corteja
                                         o perfume do fim.)


                                         delícia esmaecida
                                         de vidas póstumas
                                         ainda
                                         .
                                         .
                                         .


                                         erógenas.