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  • When words seem to choke,
    injured with distance.

    The distance of the roots now
    in each footprint, embedded
    verses tied with pain.

    Words are sneaky
    And if so, with commas removed,
    They refuse to blossom strophes,
    Sighing roots,
    under miles of events.

    [Picture taken on the way to Minas Gerais, Brazil, it´s special to me because it reminds me the great pleasure of traveling without destiny and purpose.]
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