i sing my electric heart

para o al berto.
porque somos tão poucos a cantar.


i dream of electric dreams
i dream of electric daydreams
i dream of electric ladies
i sing the body electric.

just as some people grow gardens
in the backyard
each morning i wake up
and water my flowers gently.

i carry a garden inside myself:
each flower growing from an electric seed,
each seed growing from a kind of pain.

some people wear flowers in their hair
just like in the song, decades ago.
i wear electric flowers, instead,
and ladies,
and dreams.
a different kind of skin
i didn't ask anybody for.

each flower, each pain, each dream, each bone:
a gigantic
and electric
dreamland
in which i rest from the pains of the world,
only
to better dive into
my own pains.

this garden where i feel secure,
as virginia astley once said.

i sing the world's pain away
by mastering
my own.

a job? you ask.
a mission? you mock.

a flower. i say.
'cause
each one grows the garden that suits him the most.

gi.