Channeling the opposition sun and moon

 

After all the meanwhile, the pendants, the detergents, the musical stanzas, the boring tasks and others, after sitting down for lunch, which I believed to be Sunday, a chickpea salad with boiled egg, onion, potato, tuna and the blessed spices, that this only has olive oil, no vinegar, cristina,  Eva repeated, give me the bottle of cider, after the hare tapada, after her dessert, the grapes and, for me, the coffee and the cigarette, yes, Cristina, today is not Sunday, but it looks like Sunday, it has a wet floor when you wake up, it has a smell of sulfur in the air, as if everything was airing,  boiling, in a water bath, things that are done on Sunday Eve, that Sunday is for reading and listening to music, when the people are hermits, after all, it was all Saturday, and I know that I have the face of someone who does not believe, a day to clean, to brush the clean and the dirty, to scramble behind the furniture,  To shake pillows, to ruin carpets, to clean toilets, I am happy I did everything on Friday, obeying Saturn, who doesn't want me in tasks on his knees, oh that my toes hurt, just to rhyme, and I've been thinking that after all, I cleaned everything on Friday, as if it were Saturday, that I cooked on Friday as if it were Saturday, the grilled salmon with fries in the quarters, on a bed of mushrooms with cream and I abused the cloves,  And I didn't even take advantage of Sunday, as if it were Sunday, because for me it was Sunday, a day to calm down, not to take the sacrilege tablet, and I came to hide myself in the room and it is about him, from this barracks cave, cave, tunnel that guards me, that I speak to you. Today was Saturday, any Saturday, because when enslaved by the calendars, we take care of prison, I remembered so many Sundays by your side, Sundays were with you. And with you, every day was Sunday. But once again, and yes, I send Saturn to the fava beans, for now, then he sends me to the nettles, once again and many times, another Saturday and so many Saturdays and Saturdays without you that I believe I am mad, just the way the enemy intended. And you know me well, I never give up, even if mercury forces me to say otherwise, I remember, with nostalgia and nostalgia, the cold mesão, the viewpoints where we stopped, we invented viewpoints everywhere, in régua, in caldas de Aregos, Santa Marta de Penaguião, in Resende for oranges and cherries, in Granja,  everywhere there were viewpoints for no reason and no seat bench, it was us and the morning or the afternoon and the nights, We entered the road, tore up the curves, humming songs and drawing dreams, some of which remained unfulfilled. To tell you, this Saturday, almost, almost Sunday, because it is 10:23 p.m., that the dreams that remained, that did not come to fruition due to lack of time, or due to the intemperance of circumstances, distractions and false alliances of friendship, are still found here, in the middle of books, among old brochures and in the scars of salt and punishment. And they are dreams, like others that we fulfill, that dreams I do not know dates or expiration dates, while we are alive, as long as there is wind and we have wings. I lean back, as a sign of resignation (but not of conformism). And it takes two to tango. And when I am overwhelmed like this, my love, other dreams are born in me, in which, from one I make two or one hundred, and I cross the galaxy, with you dancing in my arms, and in that space where we fit only us, I find myself going to the bottom, to that bottom of the bottom from which you can see the soul, thirsty and gloomy,  and between knowing you far away or not having you, I make distance a reason for joy. Now, what Janis sings to you is what I would have tried to do, if I had not gone out of tune, to sing to you, in such a year, in such a month, in such a week on such a specific day. When all this happened, Mars in me gave me apathy, fear, rejection, and cowardice. And he in me again. Lingering. Now, every day more exact. My love, stationary Mercury, Uranus without rearguard, no opposition, but quincunxs by the dozen. Oh if I saw you tomorrow, if perhaps the conjuncture of lilith and venus in libra and the alignment of kiron with my neptune in the 5th house, there next to the vertex, if this movement happened, as the prophecy says, the planetary alignment erupted in this room, I would say that I deserved it, that I am a pope and I didn't even know it,  that in the eclipse of the routine and illusion axis the so-called magic would materialize, by the trembling of your gaze, which I do not forget, in this madness that the world is without you, in this cold bed, perhaps my love, I would realize the world I dreamed for us in a single day.