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■ A 8th Bienal do Douro sem limites
Romanian Spell-Checker Contato |
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-04-03 | [Este texto deve ser lido em english] |
"Wake up, he said,
It's nine, it's almost time..." To leave. I'm almost happy - I welcome morning with a smile And wear it until sunset. Almost excited in his arms, almost Convinced his words are true, Never enough, almost one whole, Eyes closed, moon beams, my fingers Through his hair, yes! we are almost there. And then he stops.. It's almost silence, I watch him as he searches in the dark... "Damn, I was almost sure, he said, I knew there would be one more left..." I watch him tremble, taste the air, And I can almost see the smoke around his head - he's almost perfect... Waiting there... holding my luggage in the air, Waiting for me To leave. My train is on its track. "Almost" is all that comes to mind When I look back...
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