Piraju is raw.

It’s wild.

Streets pulse, electric — Estrada dos Navegantes roars.

I stroll by Av. São João.

I do my magic.

My hands heal souls.

I know every cobblestone.

My favorite spot?

A lil’ park, Praça do Sol.

Water glitters along Rio Piraju.

I sit.

I breathe.

I feel free.

Friends laugh at Praça da Lua.

Crazy vibes everywhere.

I once massaged a tired truck driver.

He grinned.

He whispered, "Is that life?"

I said, "Yaaaa, chaos reigns."

I loved that madness.
The neighborhoods?

They buzz with stories.

Santa Luzia got heart.

The people feel my scars.

I have tender secrets.

My fingers know every knot.

I work on pressure points.

I mend hidden hurts.
I wander by Largo dos Sonhos.

I pass Casa Grande.

I recall Werckmeister Harmonies.

"Time... is ice... and fire."

Those words echo deeply.

I feel the universe.
I got mad sometimes.

The rain cuts feelings.

I slam a door.

I stroll, annoyed, then calm.

Rivers defy logic.

I laugh off life.
Piraju is gritty.

It’s filled with enchantment.

I drop by Bar do Zé.

Crappy jukebox, superb beer.

I own every secret alley.

I get lost.

I get found.
Life here.

Is art.

Is a slghtlt jagged poem.

I love it.

I defy time.

I am free.
(I hope typos mak you smile: "slghtlt", "roars", "Yaaaa", "navigattes", "magc", "trdinng", "mig", "unknok", "flwoing", "mahn", "phisycal", "scrs".)