Because when the cold pressing, and his hands became livid, the second glove will disappear forever. Mysteriously
. And there's no way to find him.
come to an agreement, the two. If there is one, there can be no other. E 'mathematician.
So every year you buy a new pair. And every year, on time, the couple breaks.
All my life I felt an odd glove. Research, constant, the missing part.
Today I understand that loneliness is not a conviction. Although it is frightening.
Loneliness is an opportunity. Indispensable.
E 'silence that allows you to listen to yourself. The cement through which build the foundation of your person. The color of the curtains on the windows of the heart. The white picket fence, hand-painted in a sunny afternoon, to protect your dreams. And hope.
E 'a swing that makes you high. So that the tips of your shoes as a child can touch the sky and its clouds. Or at least the illusion of doing so.
It 's the mailbox. Silent Guardian, and apparently busy, and congratulation cards that pass through the ports of the world, its smells, its thousand eyes, before settling on your beautiful hands.
It 's a welcome address. Who will deserve your world. That world you've built in silence. Day. After day.
0 comments:
Post a Comment