Your specter
My look anxiously waiting
Not that you were not turns came.
The time to live longer passes
The wind brought no clothes.
I give up this search senseless
Feeling that this cold is not limited.
Love, when Love poorly resolved
Exceeds its share of the pain.
But I come mendicant with my eyes,
Searching does not even know what wanted most.
Who had so many days delusional,
Just remember the moments of joy ...
But I know that I desire nothing finally
Just your living ghost in me ..
MARCOS LOURES
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