Minha Pessoa

Minha foto
Choro ou sorrio, são estados da alma. Quero e não quero, são coisas do meu coração. Lavo as minhas mágoas de braço dado com as dores e alegrias

sábado, 11 de abril de 2009


I gotta whole lot of lovebut none like you.

You make me wanna stayhere in heaven with you.

I'll write your name in the sand,put your hand with mine.

Come on baby,shoot your gun in the sky!

There is that one person who fills your mind at night, who is there, the last thing that fades from the edges of your consciousness as you drift off into peaceful slumber. When you wake up, that person’s face rises to the surface of your thoughts like the golden sun rises outside your window. You lay there piled high with cozy blankets, your eyes closed but your mind awake, and that someone’s name, drifting through your mind, is a cue for an unseen puppet-master, who, with invisible threads, pulls the corners of your mouth into the most content of smiles. And that smile stays there, making you ever-warmer, far longer than any other waking thought would cause it to stay. And that, perhaps, (if I’m not very much mistaken) is love.

1 comentários:

Jonas Matos disse...

You are not mistaken. You are pretty sure. Believe me :D