lundi, novembre 21

Em Lisboa

the same country inside you
even if the streets are painted black and white
sheets changing and
faces discarded 
but they will all leave you the same smile 

still you live like a stranger to yourself 
walking
walking 
trying to find without searching  
the connection between the world and your heart 


etrangere a ma langue dans un clavier qui ne connait rien de mon orthographe

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