sexta-feira, 12 de janeiro de 2018

Memory


dema

(Sometimes love rescues you from the past,
turn my guts
and shakes the melancholy of the dark days.)


You do not die
here inside my heart
You remain alive, as you have always been,
only shrouded by the veil of time,
whose flaps, time to time,
sneakily,
I lift one
to see you smiling and jovial.

I refuse to discard intact and beautiful agendas
which, because not used,
became obsolete.



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