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Perhaps it was not necessary to dream so high,
maybe a kiss on the forehead was enough,
a walk counting waves in the sea,
like a whisper of the silent wind.
Maybe we wanted to reach the goal
without enjoying the path, the moment,
where the sun bathes the terrace as it passes,
with beers and laughter to the firmament.
With the cinema, popcorn and smiles,
an awakening wrapped in hugs,
an afternoon of sofa and precise rains,
where time is entangled in your steps.
Maybe everything was simpler and smaller,
soft caresses in tickle wars,
a shared drink where the dream
is to feel the wonders in the air.