... "still call me love ... always ... like a child looking for his mother's arms, like a child with his finger to the sky to the soft iridescent clouds, as a young man who relished the immense sea in front of the first melancholy, like a man who discovers the despair, as we all, as the man who lives and dreams and hopes, and suffers and does not understand, as those feelings of failure as a strong woman who cries, as someone who wants to cry and can not, as those seeking a wide chest and lover to lean on for a few seconds; as those who would be worth more things ... like for them all, my night is full of questions, one full of human need ...
... mamy thanks.
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