Michel

I know that if someday
This will get your hands on
Certainly before you even finish reading
Would you think me silly
And have fun
At the cost of my feelings.

And even if it annoyed me
I would relieve your behavior
But man, this is all true.
I miss
To wake up every Saturday morning
And we will race to the room
And whoever came first
Would own the remote control
And sofa all day long.

From our mother’s quarrel
Because of the dog we found on the street
And hide in our backyard
Of you wearing my glasses
And saying that when I used it
Our house was full of steps
Christmas party at our grandparents’ house…
Of our boring cousins
To play in the street
And from our favorite dessert
Of our mother guarding our milk teeth
And how generous and cool you were to everyone.

We miss your joy.
And if that day when our mother
Forbidden me from entering the room.
Just so as not to disturb you
With my x-ray vision goggles
I was able to see
The unproven sickness of the disease
That took you from us!
Michel, if I could go back in time…
We would change places,
Or would not let you get sick
And break into a thousand pieces
The dishes in the kitchen and also her heart.

If you were alive
He would never let me play the idiot.
Would meet his nephew
Would see that someone else besides our mother and grandmother
do you think I am handsome
Would have the chance to live
With both sides of the same boy
The first half from 1 to 21
That did not work very well
And the twenty-two thriving springs
of today.

Man, how I wish you were here.

—By Mariana S.F., 24, São Paulo, Brazil