Quinta-feira

Like calendars dying
at New Year's Eve parties
As we kiss hard on the lips
and swear this year
will be better then the last

Ten seconds left
until midnight
nine chances to drown ourselves
in black hair dye
eight faces turned away
from the shock:
seven windows and six of them
were locked
five stories falling
fo(u)r ever and ever
three cheers to the mirror
now there are two of us
can we have one last dance?

Zero.

Bom ano para mim.

Bom ano para ti.