Pretend It's Sunday

12 Jan 2026

---

In memoriam of my grandmother, D. Neusa

---

Sometimes I write in English
So that I can dissociate
Because if I write in Portuguese
Words bear so much more weight

I knew that it was time because
The clock on the wall had both hands pointing down
As it should be
But I could read that only
Because you taught me

I could smell the pizza in the oven from the gate
Oh, what a taste
And from the porch you could hear people laughing gleefully
As if there were nowhere else they would prefer to be

I’d enter the house, running towards that tiny-room
That you kept for us, where you always bloom
Where we could play make-believe
That we would never have to leave
Where we could pretend
That nothing had ever to end

I really suspect the deck of cards we played with
Was meant for magic tricks
And was not cheap
Because look how fast the time with them leapt

And the telly you watched
Was also probably enchanted
‘Cause the stories you told
Were in the screen set to unfold

But the clock ticks
Time flies
While reality doesn’t lie
Suddenly, it’s time to say goodbye

We say to ourselves that’s not enough, let’s do more
‘Cause the heart can only be so sure
But between two Sundays
There are always six days
When life can force us to go different ways

Sometimes through flesh and blood
Other times through spirit
I can’t understand
Why it is like that

In the services, the teachers told us both
We will meet again
But they left out the most important part
When?
In another life, then

The clocks won’t go back
They will reset
And we will get another shot
To do our very own best

I hope you knew
That’s how I say
I love you