passeio dentro de ti

nesta cidade, muito guarda-segredos e cantinhos rarefeitos. inacessíveis. na pele colada de balões e bailarinas..
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without her i've been a mess. i've painted my nails black and got my hair cut...i open my pictures collection and our past can be limitless and i know the process is to slice each section of my story thinner and thinner until i'm left only with her. and if she came pregnant we decided it would be God hand's fault...i wanted someone to enter my life like a bird that comes into a kitchen..and starts breaking things and crashes with doors and windows..leaving chaos and destruction...avoiding getting too close to know too much. i watch her get fucked up, lose touch, we listened to Nick Drake in her tape recorder and she told me she was a writer. i read her book in two and a half hours and cried all the way through as watching Bambi....at night we would talk in dreams.
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