When I was giving you my body for the first time
I was hoping you wouldn't notice the seams
Their intention is simple. To talk about Snapshots. For the secret life that breathes and suddenly sounds in moments of silence or even in moments of noise. In the city, at work, in the neutral zones of relationships. At the points where something is lost or changed. But these poems may also speak of a small struggle, which is none other than to grow up, to accept, relying on small fantasies of warmth and emotional mastery, on personal motifs that familiarize us with what is missing and its Passion. After all, the way we look at others, at moments, isn't that also a View, a personal one?
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