Inside a blinding dome, 
the hot veins of a restless child pulsate.
A child that plays in finding it’s own truths, 
that learn how to tell stories 
and to celebrate the ideas that cross its mind. 
She craves for an identity.
She breathes.
The living city pulsates,in it’s inevitable path to death.
She pulsates yet one more time, and it’s not long before it is reborn
emptying will over a destiny still being created.
Brasília, 21st of may 2014.
___
Thanks to my friend Tomás Faquini.
