BE POETRY

Feel the same, as I listen. Slide my lips over verses.

There are words in which the fingers are lost.

There are echoes in my chest rest.

Name the lights that guide the leaves. Cradling the soul from the distant voice.

Inside, deep inside, the root hides. Here in my skin, the reason escapes.

Breathe the air impregnated all seasons. Respite all the stories, some blush me.

Mysterious force that my fingers are lost. And now, here, dawns.

Textures, colors, absences, infinite. Cello desires while ripping his clothes.

There are words in which the fingers are lost.

I borrowed all the sweet whispers of your mouth.

Stop… you listen the drowned steps between fears.

Feel, live, cry, laugh…

Be Poetry

Music & Lyrics

Gustavo Campos