Sim, porque eu tenho pancadas que não lembram nem ao menino Jesus!!
Depois porque não tive melhores ideias para o nome do Blog...
Fiction or reality?Cross the street without land down to earth. Your mouth goes to your hand, see it from where I am, I follow it with the eyes. You're a skinny gray jacket under the lead of the sky, a weak trunk unmitigated by a scar, a hand that carries a volume that dark tome by a book, which hang two legs instead of walking. You're a stranger that one day I stole a kiss, another day that I stole her sleep and does not slow to take me everything. I demand that peace return to me or that I return what remains is nothing but what we do. Eyes glued to your waist, see you move forward decisively sporadic but. Save me from this side of the street. I leave you waiting. Slopes up to the railing. Change over half a dozen words of looking towards you. For moments I doubt that is really here. If looks good, can see the glow of my eyes this side of the street. Do not look. Pretend you do not see. I do not see that. While progress, the past becomes an indecipherable blur. I remember that you no longer want and forget that you still love me and started to walk.
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