“
You felt no reality, no knife of sorrow cut your intestines to bits. Only a weariness, a longing for a shoulder to sleep on, and a pair of arms to curl up in.
“
Estábamos, estamos, estaremos juntos. A pedazos, a ratos, a párpados, a sueños.
Mario Benedetti (via escorpio-luna)
(via escorpio-luna)
