My feeling
Who insists on devouring my feeling?
I know and I never tire of talking
While the forces under the moonlight
As much as we try not to keep still
The wind turns into suffering
And the taste is suiting the palate
Still you need more salt
On how to be happy, sweet torment
So after I sign my freedom
At times when you said foolish
Unexpected kiss I gave you,
Ghosts of us prowling the room,
A soul distracted now shut up
Making law of the glee.
RITA DE CASSIA TIRADENTES LOURES
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