Things had become impossible between them and nothing could be salvaged. Certain words must be sad. And although each one had said the words a hundred times to herself, they had never said them to each other out loud. So they began to hope someone would say the words for them. Perhaps a letter might arrive, or a telegram delivered that would say what needed to be said. Now they spend their days waiting. What else could they do?
Duane Michals. Para nós, meu amor * Tu, sempre.
(que nunca nos tome o silêncio * )
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