is curious: I missed you before you had to leave, as if in the haze of your skin has written that you were a bird of passage, the youngest of the movements trigger a storm of empty suitcases and tickets to nowhere. Are the kind of foreboding that carry the rest away, no one hears stories of those who can not participate. Instead I held on to the secrets behind the serenity that gave off your melancholy figure, the same candor that radiated a sweet Uruguay.
Three hundred days and one night we forge ahead, one stumble by chance, we do not suffer the pain but also forced us to look for us on the map, fulfilling the prophecy that I 
Since joining the desperate calm, days are going to find shreds of embrace between screens, collecting as many confessions as pixels have an email. Fairy missing in the environment, notebooks timid, D friendship. Silences. And miss you, you've been replaced by a voice that camouflages their emotions to make ends Why not jump in your pictures and return to shine? More silence.
And on days like this, hugs and memories rationed in Technicolor, walk beside me. And come back to greet the sidewalks that intersect strangely, embraced by your black backpack, outlining the distance to the mel warping distances
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