Esteja ciente: a minha mente pode andar confusa, meu pensamento não é linear e as minhas palavras escritas reflectem os arabescos que os estados mentais anteriores formulam.
I remember the shell close to the ear, talking back the sound of the sea. I remember a turquoise blue dress involving her sadness.
I rode out alone looking at the sun going down among the ruins of the Capelo; the last male child in the day that the sun shuddered.
I remember the burnt wood smell, of incandescent firewood. The overloaded plaza, the roads without people.
I sat down on a long bench and looked at her look. She, diligent, took place a handspan far from me.
A sensible one can soften as a saint, but not as a fool. And I? fool.
I remember the shell close to the ear, talking back the sound of the sea. I remember a turquoise blue dress involving her sadness.
I rode out alone looking at the sun going down among the ruins of the Capelo; the last male child in the day that the sun shuddered.
I remember the burnt wood smell, of incandescent firewood. The overloaded plaza, the roads without people.
I sat down on a long bench and looked at her look. She, diligent, took place a handspan far from me.
A sensible one can soften as a saint, but not as a fool. And I? fool.
