Old happy stars


Do you remember when you were a kid?

And every shinny thing in the sky looked like a star?

I would spend hours staring, even before it became dark, just so i could catch the first one.

When did stars become boring?

When did i stopped searching for them?

I need them back.

I need all those stars i found when i was a girl.

And the wishes i made on them too.

And the people that was by my side.

I need all the things i left behind…


Rio with no chance of rain.


You just shaved.

You are wearing a white shirt.

You smell like the sea.

You throw your arm over your eyes and say it can’t happen.


Your brother is asleep on the next room so we are talking low.

Makes your voice sound younger, almost like a child’s.

Shaved like that, in the dim light, you´re almost a kid.

I had forgotten how young we really are.

It caughts me off-guard.

I put my lips on your throath while you speak, just to feel it’s real.


You say impossible.

You say something huge is standing between us.

What would we do? Where would we go?

It’s because we are in Brazil again, i know, the air makes you want to stay.


Rio is too hot, too humid, too salty. Even at night.

So hot it makes you want to escape your skin, your body, your problems, your mind.


You say something. You ask if i was listening. I wasn’t.


“It’s raining, news said there was no chance”.

You smile.


You say impossible but impossible things happen everyday.

Just look.

I already did many impossible things for you.


The tunder wakes your brother up and he makes us drink tequila shots.

It’s 2 am. We sit on the balcony.

Everything’s so dark, so quiet; feels like we’re the only ones alive.


You say impossible but it’s been going on for over 3 years.


We fall asleep at some point, on the same couch.

My head on your shoulder, your brother’s on my lap.

When did you became my family?


You say impossible but it’s already happening.


I wake up first, we are so close i can feel you breathing.


Impossible things only take a little more effort, a little more time, a lot of plane tickets.

And two people in love willing to break old rules.


lula avila

The map to your apartment.

The map back to mine.

The map of your body.


The map of the city we live in (always changing)

The distance between your place and mine.

The words you speak and how i always cut them up or glue them as i wish.


There are maps everywhere if you really look.


The map of your warm breath on cold mornings.

The map of your hands, and how you never know what to do with them.


And i know one day you and i will be gone and all these roads will stop working, they’ll end with us.

But right now all the maps of my life are leading to you.

Even the ones with no way out.


“Where do you want to go?” you ask.

As if i wasn’t already there.

As if you weren’t the place i had been looking for all my life.

Daniel, population 1


Daniel takes long walks.

One time he crossed Buenos Aires on one day.

He walks for hours. Because he likes to. It’s also good for him, good for his body, good for his mind.

Isn’t it? Of course it is!

He also talks to himself.

He asks questions and then answers them.

Sometimes he’s funny and he makes himself laugh outloud.


Daniel lives alone, and eats alone, and walks alone.

But it’s just because it’s his choice.

Isn’t it?

Well, of course it is!

He makes all his choices.

He also doesn’t trust people much.

He was betrayed when he was younger, and he never forgot.

Girls smell nice and they’re okay, but sometimes they have long nails that could tear his life apart.

And he’s been working years on creating this world for one.

Can’t take that risk.

Girls are okay, he keeps them close, but not too close.

They can walk along with him as long as they stay a few meters away.

As long as they don’t touch him.

They can sleep on his bed as long as they stay on their side.

Have breakfast on his kitchen, as long as they don’t keep their organic shit on his fridge.

And feminine hygiene thingies are out of the question. No. NOPE.

When he’s not walking or dating he’s overworking.

He just finished a big project, he buys a good wine.

Congratulates himself.

He’s great

Isn’t he? Of course he is!

He drinks the whole bottle, alone.

This is a good life, right? Of course! He’s the best! look around, look at all the nice things he has on his flat.

He’s half drunk and he feels good.

He pats his own shoulder.

He wonders if that is the feeling that people with friends get.

But that he can’t answer.

The problem with worlds for one is that they end up being spheres so small that no matter which way you go, or how much you walk, you always end up at the same place.

And with the same person.

He needs another bottle of wine.

Doesn’t he?

Yes, he does…