amar tem destas coisas, às vezes - magoa. e quanto mais tu amas, maior é a dor.
ela ensinou-me que a dor passa e o amor fica. e às vezes a dor faz com que o amor cresça.
e eu amo-a sempre. mas por hoje ela podia parar de me magoar. só hoje.
“I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from ‘A’ to where you’d be
It’s only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I’d find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places
I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I’ve found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me”