Sal

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Tinhas olhos que feriam de intensos, de fortes que eram. E nos teus infinitos lábios uma tormenta. Um estio desfeito de medo. Agarravas com ganas uma vida (rebelde). Quase atávica. Não poderias jamais deixar ou fugir. Teu destino era lutar.

Imagem: Black Cape (em Salome de Oscar Wilde), de Beardsley.

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