Contos, crônicas e poesias de autores brasileiros
Quando eu me for, os caminhos continuarão andando…
E os meus sapatos também!
Porque os quartos, as casas que habitamos,
Todas, todas as coisas que foram nossas na vida
Possuem igualmente os seus fantasmas próprios,
Para alucinarem as nossas noites de insônia!
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