Sometimes I suspect that what I see, I love those words and breath that are reflected in a pool of clear water and impenetrable. be why the image and sounds of a sudden ripple of a fish for the slide, indifferent to my reality, with the bubbles that tarnish body and what I was telling myself.
be why we age: unsure if what we have seen, the sudden disruption to the life or reality or not, we point our finger on the face, wrinkled in the waves in infinite expansion.
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