Opportunities through each new street,
each stroll finishing at the sea, at your canals made of wind, of water and thirst
for wanting to grow.
Nerves in the empty burrows of this attic
waiting to see us dance, learn, live at that;
Parks at the intermission between seasons, peeking for new life
us, at the same time, looking to the sky
without knowing what weather to wait for.
New goals, same essence, all the emotion
growing with the change
of a beginning without end.
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