Guinevere, the Welsh I love, you who flow into me and I, ocean. your pale waves carry to my clavicles a breeze that enchants my lament, since first sang astonishing an alphabet I possess; they have no time to leave nor to come back. Welsh adoration left me in dusk covered reflection of heaven, so the evening depletes its blue, and into the sea I go and cry out, Guinevere I crave you. the sun called him—globe of dazzle, frightened, took my Welsh love. Guinevere went and left souvenir of a sheep coat heated by the one who kidnapped him, tossed in white sand. the salty days and warm nights show me love. because everything about love looks like you. my Welsh, my ocean, now I swim and ponder only you.
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Giulia Teixeria (she/her) is a Brazilian writer who has really found her place in English poetry. You can find her yapping about love at loveclubenthusiast.substack.com.