Autumn and the leaves fell as he shot himself, has gone with the wind and has moved since the winter with their rush, with its cold, with your own hours, with own laughter ... Accelerated with the silence and the breath has started, I lost some lines, escaped a few kisses, a few faded memories ...
year older, is dying, gust of minutes uncontrollable and unstoppable ... Lots to do, much to think much further ahead and behind ...
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