I am a beggar who does not have the courage
Begging for himself.
Lines and wounds intersect on my palms,
Because of all the uncompleted caresses
All the fever on my forehead
And the illicit cavities love the house.
Every scar my body
Emerge a truth.
I believe and numbers down
The rhythm of the day, the current without fear
At the depths of the origin,
And all around me is movement
The stone becomes a house,
The rock - a grain of sand.
When I stop breathing
My heart beat even faster.
Vinie Mt
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