I use to sell brownies in the avenues near of my home.
It use to be nice, could've endured more.
Butterfly effect is not a stupid theory.
Brownies slices Made Sweeter
Ipês
My bus continues on as time goes by. And I, like an ordinary man, look back.
And that's where I find you once again. Before boarding, we held each other's hands and you hesitated to let go of mine. The ipê flower fell as the sun faded. After months of decorating our weekends.
But I didn't want it to end there, on the avenue of sober longing.
Once again I took a bus. I left home early in the morning... I'll see you again today, I said hopefully. I took a souvenir and put it in my lonely pocket. I saw the yellow treetops on that familiar avenue.
You looked at me in surprise.
Before the end was reflected in us by that tender morning, I said to you:
__ I adore you.
We each followed our own path, I the one of the ipês, you the one of the pier on the coast.
Some memories are ghosts, some good some bad, you and that short avenue made me happy
Remanescents songs. Between us. The old schedule of that morning bus. The yellow three tops, my pure old thoughts. Oat milk black coffee, brownies slaces and your lovely traces. Thoses scenes and songs, selling sweets in the streets. Just more some lost months. Seas fresh air inside my lungs. The houses roses, and the nasty folks. Polaroids attached on the fridge, pictures of someone not rich. Inner life most important goal I could reach. Not anybody else have hurt. Path of redemption, with a good and righteous speech. Unfriendly voices harmelles , Half an hour running and remember of you, moments I regret to have lost . In my so sad point of view. I'm writing down theses lines if in case in thoses periods I come outside. Life's more precious than money. Is not that grave sometimes to feel lonely. People's look are sweet as does the honey. You must to hold on tightly only.
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