Cartório #1

There are documents, paperwork, stacked
Upon the desk, the kitchen table, the bedroom shelves.
I am collecting the physical trail of my existence. I
Carry it, even, in a small plastic briefcase
To protect what is known about me.
I am registered amongst the rotting filing cabinets,
Pressed between index cards of residents,
Citizens who know nothing other than
Labyrinths and mazes. The jeitinho is merely
An evolutionary adaptation, as the world spins
Towards the global south. Perspectives may be
Skewed along axes, and now I learn to
Lean towards patience.