By
I am made of patches, by
Pieces of phrases to count
Parts of the history I lived and
The ones I’d like to forget
New seams I made to unite
Every piece of me that by
Very little didn’t become
Trapilhos the wind takes without
Towards any destination.
And it was mesdemoiselles the heart here
And There I could see that it was one
Mosaic of fabrics.
Where every retail slowly
Sewn showed that neither
All fabrics we use for
Cover our souls.
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