He apologized for his absence in an empty room. He consoled himself lost in the echo of his voice that bounces off the chops of the books the library.
color photo in black and white old photos and took out a doubt the "real"
He forgot that the road was kind to speculation of a historic post-war reconstruction.
not forget the hole in the stomach. He remembered the heat and hunger to resist.
Then he asked me if I ever even I had nothing to say.
Knowing all of my lies continued to ignore them without lying.
of rain that was not seen, but you only hear him wet. It was this season.
In the spring I decided to live aboard the extension of a broken heart.
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