Self-published book
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A blue sea at the beginning is greenish at the a / v tips that collapse in the sand wind. Purple, purple on the left and cobalt blue on the right. The wave when it rises from the sand in the return to its center leaves the yellow that dries in silver. The wave is still green and the foam white. A white line in the blue, a boat with a young man to navigate it, (there are) floodlights in the back that illuminate the scene: two springs that seek to catch the orange that spreading in the sky towards the earth, came to pick someone, playing the violin in Portugal. At this moment the sea is oiled black, a cat and a white heron of red feet that eats fish.

Catarina Cubelo

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I arrived at the red beach, the blue sea and when they arrived, the fifty daughters and the fifty nephews of Dânao, did the dance, each one has a dagger and at the nuptial moment the paternal order is fulfilled, the sea, and Forty-nine die.
They beat clear on my chest. That (geneological) repetition almost killed me. And now there were a hundred minus forty quanta and nine less quanta forty-nine more horses.
I imitated the horse, but my arms, someone crossed them over the belly, it was the fifty plus forty-nine who in the middle of the fight did not understand me or did not hear me, if they did not pretend one of these things. The sea also pretends.
This is why fixed ideas are so powerful. I took the figure of a left-hand scattering the movements of the hundred less quanta and nine plus fifty men.
Finally, as Thiago was restored to the bottom of the fins, I saw a white hippopotamus come, who had hoped Diana would come from the house. Suddenly, this river turtle, and still now reminds me, that with the face of an old snake, because the attitude gave it the image of danger, it was innocent. The hippopotamus, a fixed notion, came buckling, stretched legs and arms, devouring a horse.
And then-cogitations-as if they were devastating their origin-to crush me between the nails,
we were more than a hundred devouring the way, until the feet were pulled until I reached the towel and the bananas in the seat, leaving the whites mixed in the blue.
Having conversations in the sun, you cannot leave the egg outside the refrigerator, soon opens all to prove itself.
I still feel the water in the belly, standing in the green tent, and if instead of sifting forward, walked backward with the hundred less quanta and nine plus fifty to the sea?
Catarina Cubelo