Had a house you would like the funds of Bento Martins, Fudi when being observed by fig trees full of bird poop, neighbors doing samba until the wee hours, the of owls and bats swooping, sometimes have the impression that we were not only you and me forever for some detail, some ill-calved zodiac we crossed the path, and neither you nor I never knew swallow it. Neither I nor you ever.
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