Arrebata-me os pensamentos

Os seios dela me são afáveis às mãos, quando ela me deixa ser sacana. Os pêlos de meu peito acordam ao seu toque, já registrado em meu corpo, mesmo quando seus dedos não queimam por onde minha pele arde; Apenas acalentam meus batimentos erráticos com o mais afetuoso afeto. Ela arrebata-me os pensamentos. Ela, não é minha. Eu, só dela.

— Alana Marroquim, Mai. 2021

From the womb and the breast

A lifetime way too short for the magnitude of my miracle love. A love too crystal like, yet unbreakable. God like, yet so earthly. Born from this dirt but not exactly built for this sinful world.

— Alana Marroquim, May 2021

I always bring the bitterness to the sweet

Be aware dear boy, I know how to be endearing
But I’d much better like to be vicious
You mistake my tenderness for fragility, because you’ve never seen my very eyes shining raw audacity, never had a taste of my powerful words boiling at my throat, corruptive,
spilled right at you, 
This is the sharp tongued, darling tigress you cannot tame,
be aware, dear man, of the frail thing in your chest weeping for me,
I might come down to earth from your prayers and lift you from your knees, if you behave nicely
My dear, you may see,
I always bring the bitterness to the sweet

— Alana Marroquim, May. 2021

Verbo pulsar

Escrever poesia é como transplantar seu coração para o papel e faze-lo pulsar pelas palavras escritas.

— Alana Marroquim, Mai. 2021

Weeping, singing, bleeding

You kissed me so raw, it made my flesh weep
It sang hidden tunes that from you, it couldn’t keep
I fell in love with the burning trailing of your tongue, and the sweet pulling of your teeth
Do tell me, how can we bleed off our sins like this, in perfect synchronicity?

— Alana Marroquim, May. 2021