(Em resposta aos teus sonhos insólitos)
In your history, my face is hidden. Dreams are in a real lackness. The last page of day. A little bit of me and you from a photo. Out of a brilliant sleep. Its our home at last. By the golden sea. Adventures: shoes, roads and red scenes. Some roses in the floor. No wine, no wisdow. Just joy and energy. The mirror on the other hands. Love is our will and warming place, dear. Maps are home of illusions.