by Lúcia Leão

that moves on a surface,
someone scratching
with a fingertip the picture
of existence.

Up the stairs, down a ladder,
horizontal, dreaming,
mudding the air with its breathing.

A tunnel of insides no one sees,
but feel, there is a texture
of dance, traits that attempt
the borders.

All my scars are feminine.

______________________________________________________________________

Lúcia Leão is a translator and a writer originally from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Her poems have been published in SWWIM Every Day, South Florida Poetry Journal, Gyroscope Review, Chariton Review, and Harvard Review Online, among others. Her work is included in the anthology Grabbed: Poets and Writers on Sexual Assault, Empowerment & Healing. Lúcia’s poems in Portuguese have been published in literary magazines in Brazil.