# 5476

E ela chorou, chorou, chorou.
Até lhe secarem as lágrimas e com elas a alma.
Numa morte desde sempre anunciada, mas nunca desejada.
Come pão, pensa o narrador.
Pode ser que empurre a dor para o buraco escuro de onde nunca deveria sair.

And she cried and cried and cried.
Until her tears dried up, and with them her soul.
In a death that had always been foretold, but never desired.
Eat some bread, thinks the narrator.
It might push the pain into the dark hole from which it should never have emerged.

Texto | Text: Maria João Faísca
Fotografia | Photography: Mariana Costa