Miracles must have been new once: a sun stayed, walls tumbling, water from a rockas startling as a summer shower, fresh in greenness like a blade of grass under the nostrils. I want to taste the sea before I sleep. I say this because now I know that everything that has to do with bodies comes back to that first love where everything bleeds, and though nothing can bring back those hours, I am that same person, brimming with desires, as the real dream unwinds, fast forwarding to a time when I know I will die, which I have never said before, not wanting to lose the place I leave, counting on you to be there.
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