Cecilia Sordi Campos reading ‘das palavras a pele’

The sun should have never risen. But it did.

Você tocou minhas costas, passou os dedos na  meia lua que não estava lá

The same way I now run my fingers on the sheets where you slept. 

Except, this time you are not there.

I sit by the lake, and watch the lights dance on the surface, in reverie.

Então, pergunto ao divino quando nossos corpos se tocarão novamente.

I close my eyes and see the man I once was, the man from another lifetime, stare back at me.

The two bodies hung.

Você não está mais nos lençóis, mas impresso.

Dentro. Você nunca esteve dentro de mim.

I ask myself and

the crow that flew past. mau presságio

It is better luck to have two crows flying past. 

I cursed you.

I looked up, up in the sky, she was there, mamma.

And I cursed you.

I asked mamma to show you my eyes staring back at you every time you closed yours.

Mamma me disse que você não vai voltar porque nunca foi embora.

Mamma influencia a mim e a você,

assim como ela mexe com as marés.

The grapes remain uneaten,

rotting.

We danced in mamma’s light.

The bee came. The dog barked. The bat flew. The waves broke.

He is,

finally, 

coming back.

Growing up in the countryside in Brazil, Cecilia Sordi Campos got a hold of a camera for the first time at age nine, after winning a contest at primary school. She took photos of everything and everyone. Unfortunately many of the rolls of film she went through were never developed. She still thinks of those never seen photographs. Cecilia is now a Melbourne based photographic artist and has been living in Australia for the past 13 years. Her past projects have been autobiographical and have explored peculiarities of her migrant experience, liminality and identity. Cecilia is also interested in the notions of intimacy and the spectrum of personal relationships.