<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267</id><updated>2012-02-03T23:01:03.237-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Inimaginável</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>96</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-4999528511665757621</id><published>2012-01-21T22:42:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T22:42:36.773-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Penso em todos os lugares que gostaria de ter ido, em todos os beijos que deixei de roubar, em todas as frases que esqueci de dizer. Fecho meus olhos e ainda sinto, ainda lembro. É tudo tão complexo e tão simples pra nós. Não é de agora, é de ontem, ou anteontem, ou de dias atrás. Não é mais meu, o que um dia sonhei. Agora olho um ponto fixo na parede, apenas alheia à vida, apenas querendo. Um dia voltarei ao nosso cais, contar as estrelas e conversar com a noite. E com você. Talvez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-4999528511665757621?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4999528511665757621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4999528511665757621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2012/01/penso-em-todos-os-lugares-que-gostaria.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-4129625272192566818</id><published>2011-12-08T15:09:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T11:34:14.662-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;sabe tudo aquilo que um dia eu disse acreditar? pois então, já não quero mais fingir.. não quero ter que esquecer depois. a saudade dos planos antigos, as dores de saudade, as ingênuas lágrimas nos olhos. hoje a dor é outra. é no peito, e dói como uma pedra atirada no vidro. como um raio que corta o céu. dói como amar e sofrer por amor. hoje, eu sinto outras coisas, eu penso outras coisas e eu quero outras coisas. às vezes eu só quero dormir. e não sonhar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-4129625272192566818?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4129625272192566818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4129625272192566818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2011/12/sabe-tudo-aqui-que-um-dia-eu-disse_08.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7508851424473850376</id><published>2011-08-29T17:20:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T17:22:24.222-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;você gosta de ser sozinho. eu gosto de ser com você. você gosta do silêncio. eu gosto da tua voz. você gosta de estar certo. eu gosto que você me corrija. você, do mar. e eu de você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7508851424473850376?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7508851424473850376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7508851424473850376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2011/08/voce-gosta-de-ser-sozinho.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8086232292143855691</id><published>2010-08-02T19:17:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T19:17:58.706-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Sinto falta de tudo aquilo que ainda não tenho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8086232292143855691?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8086232292143855691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8086232292143855691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2010/08/sinto-falta-de-tudo-aquilo-que-ainda.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1214712859092517533</id><published>2010-01-10T19:04:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T19:04:07.845-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;com a graça do perigo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;e o escuro dos teus olhos,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;eu me perco nesses trilhos,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;nos vazios, nos conformes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1214712859092517533?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1214712859092517533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1214712859092517533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2010/01/com-graca-do-perigo-e-o-escuro-dos-teus.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1484735493167160083</id><published>2010-01-10T18:55:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T18:55:57.323-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;'Vamos pra longe&lt;br /&gt;Sem se tocar os olhos vão&lt;br /&gt;Se encontrar e se perder&lt;br /&gt;Eu e você assim de perto dá&lt;br /&gt;Pra eu me perder de vez nas tuas tintas&lt;br /&gt;Me dê uma noite um pouco da manhã&lt;br /&gt;Só pra eu sacar se os olhos mudam de cor&lt;br /&gt;Eu e você assim de perto dá&lt;br /&gt;Pra eu me perder de vez nas tuas tintas&lt;br /&gt;Me dê uma noite um pouco da manhã&lt;br /&gt;Só pra eu sacar se os olhos mudam de cor&lt;br /&gt;Vamos entrar &lt;br /&gt;A minha casa não é quente&lt;br /&gt;Trago o vermelho pra esquentar&lt;br /&gt;Vamos suar'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1484735493167160083?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1484735493167160083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1484735493167160083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2010/01/vamos-pra-longe-sem-se-tocar-os-olhos.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5237677718319130047</id><published>2009-12-11T14:24:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T14:26:21.997-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;quero ser o teu alento, teu casaco e teu conforto.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5237677718319130047?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5237677718319130047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5237677718319130047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/12/quero-ser-o-teu-alento-teu-casaco-e-teu.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5395897685773382622</id><published>2009-12-11T14:21:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T14:21:37.590-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;amor, perdoa minhas crises infantis e minhas palavras sem sentido. pedoa minhas imperfeições e meu jeito desarrumado. vai, pedoa. um dia você vai ver que valeu à pena deixar pra lá. perdoa? me dá vontade de chorar, só pra sair da rotina, mas ai vem a lembrança de uma frase tua, dizendo que eu choro à toa. então eu seguro as lágrimas. talvez seja pior. ou não. só me perdoa, e esquece meus erros tolos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5395897685773382622?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5395897685773382622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5395897685773382622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/12/amor-perdoa-minhas-crises-infantis-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3605148831132033858</id><published>2009-11-28T20:49:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T20:50:35.348-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;nada demais, nada a menos, tudo em seu lugar. nada de mau, nada de melhor, tudo em seu normal. nenhum ruído, nem um silêncio, um vago e uma oportunidade. havia o medo e havia a timidez. havia o desconhecido e o nunca visto. o amor cresce. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; 'Havia o medo e a timidez&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Todo um lado que você nunca viu'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3605148831132033858?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3605148831132033858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3605148831132033858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/nada-demais-nada-menos-tudo-em-seu.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7423823965873151629</id><published>2009-11-28T20:42:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T20:42:50.264-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;o cheiro dele ainda vive no meu corpo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7423823965873151629?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7423823965873151629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7423823965873151629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/o-cheiro-dele-ainda-vive-no-meu-corpo.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-654521790503333286</id><published>2009-11-26T22:07:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T22:07:51.750-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Ela insiste em olhar no espelho e ver o semblante cansado. Insiste em ligar mesmo depois de ter prometido a si mesma esperar que ele a procure. Insiste em sair de casa com os cabelos soltos em dias quentes, mesmo sabendo que na primeira esquina prenderá. Insiste em ficar brava sem motivos e suportar o que não precisa. Ela insiste. Suas palavras abstratas e sua maneira de observar a vida alheia são egoístas o bastante para causar náusea a si própria. Seus medos infantis escondem a face capaz de romper barreiras intransponíveis. Seus sorrisos sinceros não deixam as dores mais profundas se exibirem. O brilho dos olhos clareia um futuro que ela nem sabe se vai chegar, e se chegar, ela nem sabe. Ela apenas quer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-654521790503333286?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/654521790503333286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/654521790503333286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/ela-insiste-em-olhar-no-espelho-e-ver-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7970943588329209847</id><published>2009-11-23T13:14:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T13:14:56.926-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;'E agora, o que eu vou fazer?&lt;br /&gt;Se os seus lábios ainda estão molhando os lábios meus?&lt;br /&gt;E as lágrimas não secaram com o sol que fez?&lt;br /&gt;E agora como posso te esquecer?&lt;br /&gt;Se o seu cheiro ainda está no travesseiro?&lt;br /&gt;E o seu cabelo está enrolado no meu peito?&lt;br /&gt;Espero que o tempo passe&lt;br /&gt;Espero que a semana acabe&lt;br /&gt;Pra que eu possa te ver de novo&lt;br /&gt;Espero que o tempo voe&lt;br /&gt;Para que você retorne&lt;br /&gt;Pra que eu possa te abraçar&lt;br /&gt;E te beijar&lt;br /&gt;De novo&lt;br /&gt;E agora, como eu passo sem te ver?&lt;br /&gt;Se o seu nome está gravado no&lt;br /&gt;Meu braço como um selo?&lt;br /&gt;Nossos nomes que tem o "N"&lt;br /&gt;Como um elo&lt;br /&gt;E agora como posso te perder?&lt;br /&gt;Se o teu corpo ainda guarda o&lt;br /&gt;Meu prazer?&lt;br /&gt;E o meu corpo está moldado com o teu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Espero que o tempo voe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; E que você retorne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; Pra que eu possa te abraçar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; E te beijar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; De novo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; De novo...de novo...de novo...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7970943588329209847?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7970943588329209847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7970943588329209847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-agora-o-que-eu-vou-fazer-se-os-seus.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8457237279508177893</id><published>2009-11-23T13:04:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T13:04:26.831-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;♥&lt;span style="color: #444444;"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444;"&gt;gostei &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8457237279508177893?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8457237279508177893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8457237279508177893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/gostei.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5062814637928539742</id><published>2009-11-23T13:03:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T13:03:10.846-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;"&gt;'Mas segurando a sua mão&lt;br /&gt;Sentiu sorrir seu coração&lt;br /&gt;e amou-o como nunca havia amado&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;e viveram felizes&lt;br /&gt;e para sempre&lt;br /&gt;Eles estavam livres&lt;br /&gt;Da perfeição que só fazia estragos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5062814637928539742?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5062814637928539742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5062814637928539742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/mas-segurando-sua-mao-sentiu-sorrir-seu.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-9172114821442222823</id><published>2009-11-20T13:46:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T13:47:41.301-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;'a gente corre o risco de chorar um pouco quando se deixou de cativar.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-9172114821442222823?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9172114821442222823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9172114821442222823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/gente-corre-o-risco-de-chorar-um-pouco.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3907194000255241660</id><published>2009-11-19T21:57:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T21:58:10.417-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;tantas dores, tantos silêncios. chega a incomodar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3907194000255241660?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3907194000255241660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3907194000255241660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/tantas-dores-tantos-silencios.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-4333230667528065691</id><published>2009-11-19T19:58:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T20:16:21.194-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;em uma hora de chuva, caiu mais água dos meus olhos que deve ter caído do céu, que agora está lindo, vermelho, o sol se pondo e tudo o mais. aquele vazio de sempre, o rosto inchado, o peito apertado e a dor de cabeça. não gosto das palavras concretas, prefiro as idéias, mas hoje, neste momento elas resolveram passear. a música é de fossa e eu não estou nela. tenho todos os motivos pra andar sorrindo, mas a vontade é de ficar deitada e chorando. talvez seja o cansaço, a rotina ou seja lá o que for, só quero um silêncio por alguns dias, frio, chuva e chocolate. só.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-4333230667528065691?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4333230667528065691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4333230667528065691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/em-uma-hora-de-chuva-caiu-mais-agua-dos.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-6176156937613726681</id><published>2009-11-17T17:42:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T17:44:55.555-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;'e me venha sem saber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;se sou fogo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;ou se sou água'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-6176156937613726681?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6176156937613726681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6176156937613726681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-me-venha-sem-saber-se-sou-fogo-ou-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1599866947454056664</id><published>2009-11-14T20:08:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T20:15:52.122-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;a cada pôr-do-sol, a cada chuva, a cada passo meu, eu vejo seus olhos nos meus. a cada minuto, cada estrela, cada pedra no caminho, eu sinto sua pele na minha. e sabe, as batidas do seu coração, a pulsação nas palmas de nossas mãos apertadas uma à outra, o suor, o medo, a timidez, é só isso que eu preciso, é isso que faz tanta falta num sábado à tarde, é isso que me move às semanas longas e cheias de curvas. é isso.. e se me convém, eu só peço um abraço demorado, só pra garantir uma volta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1599866947454056664?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1599866947454056664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1599866947454056664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/11/cada-por-do-sol-cada-chuva-cada-passo.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7407625611580482184</id><published>2009-10-27T20:12:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T20:06:28.792-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;só preciso ter você por perto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7407625611580482184?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7407625611580482184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7407625611580482184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-preciso-ter-voce-por-perto.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8626412752581376919</id><published>2009-10-20T20:39:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T16:06:39.708-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: right;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;na falta do medo eu vou com receio de falar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;extremamente assustada eu vou tranquila com vontade de gritar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;num possível pesadelo eu faço de conta que estou a te sonhar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;nas horas que passam devagar o tempo voa mas você não está onde [deveria estar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;a luz que apaga e clareia minha mente nos reflexos do seu olhar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;suas palavras duras se fazem no silêncio as dores de escutar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;suas verdades nuas me mentem os segredos da sua alma a me amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;as batidas do seu coração estão paradas a me esperar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;esquenta meu corpo fica comigo me abraça vai embora pra eu ter a [certeza que um dia quer voltar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;esqueça meus pecados e ame meus paradoxos e apenas fique por ficar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8626412752581376919?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8626412752581376919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8626412752581376919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/10/na-falta-do-medo-eu-vou-com-receio-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1156334617572902492</id><published>2009-10-20T20:20:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:51:08.757-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;nem se eu tivesse todo o espaço do mundo, caberia a falta que me faz nos dias frios. nem se eu tivesse todas as palavras, traduziriam todos os segredos. nem se eu tivesse todos os corações, caberia neles o meu amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1156334617572902492?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1156334617572902492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1156334617572902492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/10/nem-se-eu-tivesse-todo-o-espaco-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2553951035503310659</id><published>2009-10-08T19:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T19:15:12.786-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;vejo cada corte ainda sangrar, vejo cada lágrima ainda a escorrer, vejo teus pés ainda no ar. te vejo sofrer por nada, te vejo lutar em vão. não te vejo há muito tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2553951035503310659?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2553951035503310659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2553951035503310659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/10/vejo-cada-corte-ainda-sangrar-vejo-cada.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8287363633018670322</id><published>2009-10-07T21:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T21:34:09.106-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;deixa eu me sentir a dona da situação se é assim que eu me sinto bem. deixa eu decidir a hora de desenrolar os fios embaraçados. deixa comigo as cartas, deixa comigo os truques. deixa nos meus olhos o poder de persuasão e nas minhas mãos a vontade de mudar. presas na ponta da língua, estão as verdades prontas pra dançarem nos teus ouvidos e depois fazer doer o peso da vida, mas deixa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8287363633018670322?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8287363633018670322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8287363633018670322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/10/deixa-eu-me-sentir-dona-da-situacao-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8192832663997816456</id><published>2009-10-07T21:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:54:40.141-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;e todo esse poder de mudar o destino, de inventar novas ambições. e essa idéia de sair deixando tudo pra trás, essa vontade de largar tudo. as cores estão ficando quentes e minha mãos precisam cada vez mais das tuas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8192832663997816456?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8192832663997816456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8192832663997816456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/10/e-todo-esse-poder-de-mudar-o-destino-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-6827589345786950987</id><published>2009-09-24T20:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T20:38:07.319-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;ouvir teus olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;sentir tuas palavras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;ver teu amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;em mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-6827589345786950987?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6827589345786950987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6827589345786950987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/09/ouvir-teus-olhos-sentir-tuas-palavras.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7758805019880188026</id><published>2009-09-19T17:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T17:53:01.930-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nada do que ela sentia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;podia ser oferecido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nada do que ela dizia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;podia ser tocado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;tudo o que ela fazia &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;era observado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;e ela continuava errando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7758805019880188026?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7758805019880188026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7758805019880188026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/09/nada-do-que-ela-sentia-podia-ser.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-215083033555731867</id><published>2009-09-01T20:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T20:32:53.868-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;é, talvez fique, talvez não. só o comodismo de sempre, a máscara de sempre, e o medo de sempre. a falta do que nunca existiu. a falta do que não cabe a mim. a falta na tua ausência. cada palavra, cada gesto.. eu vou perdendo ao te ganhar. eu vou me afastando ao me aproximar. eu vou esquecendo ao me lembrar. tudo vira um misto de dor, paixão e agonia. para onde vai todo o sentimento inútil que a gente pensa? para onde vai tudo o que não serve mais na nossa vida? pra onde vou quando nada me agradar? quando o que eu quero não está mais ao meu alcance.. quando as dores tomam conta e a falta de vontade de continuar tentando, me atrai. nada que o tempo não possa levar ou que os anos não possam esconder. nada.. nada que possa me deixar tão bem quanto a tua presença vai me satisfazer. nada que me cure vai te substituir quando você se afastar. nada que faça sentido pode ser tão valioso a ponto de me tirar de você. é..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-215083033555731867?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/215083033555731867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/215083033555731867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/09/e-talvez-fique-talvez-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7197542787417052782</id><published>2009-09-01T20:18:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T14:33:07.522-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;"Tantas, sou só uma e sou tantas&lt;br /&gt;Sou devassa e sou santa&lt;br /&gt;Recatada e vulgar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Louca,tão centrada e tão louca&lt;br /&gt;Degustando em tua boca&lt;br /&gt;As delícias de amar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me respeita e me abusa&lt;br /&gt;Me ame como quiser&lt;br /&gt;Simples demais ou confusa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt; Sou simplesmente mulher"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7197542787417052782?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7197542787417052782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7197542787417052782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/09/tantas-sou-so-uma-e-sou-tantas-sou.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-4899891654335090019</id><published>2009-08-25T20:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T20:52:40.511-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;as velhas dores, os velhos medos, a velha insegurança. a falta de verdades ou o exagero delas. as cores dissolvidas em palavras frias, massacradas entre horas vazias. o frio, que nada pode aquecer. a falta que nada pode suprir. minhas mãos tremem, meu coração pára. os ponteiros do relógio se movimentam com um ruído infernal. o cheiro do nada me incomoda, o silêncio do telefone me desespera. me falta um sorriso, me falta um abraço. só me diz que vai ficar tudo bem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-4899891654335090019?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4899891654335090019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4899891654335090019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/08/as-velhas-dores-os-velhos-medos-velha.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-9066521012472065338</id><published>2009-08-02T20:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:16:42.485-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;sair à rua e sentir o medo invadir suas entranhas. entrar em casa e deixar a solidão falar mais alto. eu quis não me perder e te encontrei. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-9066521012472065338?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9066521012472065338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9066521012472065338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/08/sair-rua-e-sentir-o-medo-invadir-suas.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1528072018757739327</id><published>2009-08-02T20:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:11:26.710-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;vem, segura minha mão e me faz esquecer da vida. vem, olha nos meus olhos e me conquista cada dia mais. vem, beija a minha boca como outro jamais o fez. vem, sussurra ao meu ouvido palavras de amor. vem, e me leva pro seu mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1528072018757739327?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1528072018757739327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1528072018757739327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/08/vem-segura-minha-mao-e-me-faz-esquecer.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5355405583409293673</id><published>2009-07-27T20:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T20:45:47.623-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nos acasos da vida encontrei quem me procurava. nos seus braços encontrei meu conforto e uma segurança inigualável.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5355405583409293673?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5355405583409293673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5355405583409293673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/nos-acasos-da-vida-encontrei-quem-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8844945734680258419</id><published>2009-07-27T20:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T14:36:19.462-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;eu continuo fazendo do meu egoísmo uma maneira de viver e ainda tropeço nos pés da minha própria ignorância. erro todos os dias, peço perdão e volto a errar. uma sina. eu olho ao redor e vejo que todos vão embora. vejo que não me resta ninguém além dos meus medos e da vontade de ficar sozinha. eu gosto do silêncio e me sinto segura com meu vazio. mas há uma falta. falta do velho que já se foi. daqueles que um dia estiveram comigo e eu os mandei embora. convidei-os a não mais me incomodar e hoje pago o preço por buscar sempre a solidão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8844945734680258419?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8844945734680258419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8844945734680258419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/eu-continuo-fazendo-do-meu-egoismo-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2179024535168572550</id><published>2009-07-22T21:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T21:46:19.248-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;me peguei pensando em você, escrevendo seu nome no rodapé do meu caderno. acordei vendo você na minha frente. meus medos e minha insegurança teimam em me alertar e eu teimo em insistir. você diz sua versão e eu digo meus fatos. eu espero, você espera. nos beijamos, nos olhamos, nos abraçamos. o dia se finda e meu coração já não bate como antes. ele acelera com você por perto, ele te chama quando está longe e por mais que eu tente evitar ou me proteger, ele já é seu. por completo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2179024535168572550?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2179024535168572550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2179024535168572550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-peguei-pensando-em-voce-escrevendo.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5423992180584092538</id><published>2009-07-20T22:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:40:32.720-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;posso entrar? você me convidou e eu vim para aquele chá. eu tomei um banho demorado e cuidadosamente ajeitei meu cabelo, ainda molhado. eu tirei todas as roupas da gaveta, todas que valorizam as poucas curvas do meu corpo levemente pueril. dei algumas borrifadas do perfume que você tanto gosta de sentir no meu pescoço. saí de casa com pretenções impuras. segui até sua porta e esperei alguns minutos após o combinado, só pra não parecer desesperada. subi as escadas lentamente. o coração dispara. senti o cheiro típico daquele lugar. sinto sua falta. mas então, eu posso entrar ou preciso abrir o zíper da minha blusa? e num misto de cheiros, toques, beijos e intenções tomamos aquele nosso chá, o de sempre, com muito açúcar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5423992180584092538?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5423992180584092538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5423992180584092538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/posso-entrar-voce-me-convidou-e-eu-vim.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3993937271567120057</id><published>2009-07-17T19:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T21:54:51.816-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;meus cabelos recém lavados, já desbotados e minhas unhas por fazer. a lentidão dos meus pensamentos e a ironia das minhas palavras. o vazio, o medo, a sensação de perigo. tudo me intriga e nada me satisfaz. o cheiro do sexo escondido, o perfume, o silêncio. aquilo tudo me confundia. me fazia querer você ao me sentir só. a tua ausência, as verdades que me fazem duvidar. me completam. eu sinto as feridas de um passado serem curadas pelo presente, mas sinto as novas cada vez mais próximas. e essa incerteza me inspira.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3993937271567120057?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3993937271567120057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3993937271567120057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/meus-cabelos-recem-lavados-ja.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1717633828974711415</id><published>2009-07-17T19:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:02:53.669-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;os resquícios da tua falta ainda me consomem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1717633828974711415?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1717633828974711415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1717633828974711415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/os-resquicios-da-tua-falta-ainda-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2407766999687624404</id><published>2009-07-15T21:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:55:04.603-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;que essa loucura não se torne um pesadelo e que o meu tempo não vire uma cor sólida. para cada gota de chuva ou cada raio de sol que tocar minha face, eu tenha as tuas mãos. para cada arrepio do teu corpo eu possa sorrir e para cada sorriso meu você possa me fazer feliz. que as músicas mais tolas me façam chorar ao pensar em você e que as lembranças mais doces me causem nostalgia ao saber ser real. que o toque do telefone me faça querer você e que o seu cheiro invada meu quarto nas noites frias. que o seu abraço simplesmente me persiga. não tenho e nem preciso de argumentos, apenas não quero pensar ou ter que imaginar. sonhar me basta e ter você me completa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2407766999687624404?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2407766999687624404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2407766999687624404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/que-essa-loucura-nao-se-torne-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7736447366968069187</id><published>2009-07-15T21:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T21:54:22.940-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B9G3O3Mjjew/Sl56Lo4uaUI/AAAAAAAAAB8/KkkX68RDkEk/s1600-h/OgAAAJ0C618Y_YHdQUHv1cGKCuWvHdcB4wP3BHahusVEC4t_tgBOQ85usMxgjVeRzphxmsdY1RQa0rU3IVvYx_wCwfsAm1T1UBOhSGnXCcEz0RMvWomXK84Wl5WY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B9G3O3Mjjew/Sl56Lo4uaUI/AAAAAAAAAB8/KkkX68RDkEk/s320/OgAAAJ0C618Y_YHdQUHv1cGKCuWvHdcB4wP3BHahusVEC4t_tgBOQ85usMxgjVeRzphxmsdY1RQa0rU3IVvYx_wCwfsAm1T1UBOhSGnXCcEz0RMvWomXK84Wl5WY.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358854946989959490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7736447366968069187?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7736447366968069187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7736447366968069187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_B9G3O3Mjjew/Sl56Lo4uaUI/AAAAAAAAAB8/KkkX68RDkEk/s72-c/OgAAAJ0C618Y_YHdQUHv1cGKCuWvHdcB4wP3BHahusVEC4t_tgBOQ85usMxgjVeRzphxmsdY1RQa0rU3IVvYx_wCwfsAm1T1UBOhSGnXCcEz0RMvWomXK84Wl5WY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8319117015617719868</id><published>2009-07-11T23:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T23:01:56.655-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;pra todos os meus motivos preciso de uma pergunta. pra cada riso uma lágrima incandescente, uma palavra reconfortante. me ajude a seguir o teu caminho, o meu já é sem graça. quero encontrar verdades, estou farta dos meus devaneios. quero mais que esperança, mais que lembrança. quero querer. cansei de correr ou de fugir, cansei de sonhar. quero uma mão pra me proteger nos dias frios, quero colo pra me consolar. quero deitar na grama e olhar o céu, quero tomar banho de chuva e beijos intermináveis. um abraço infinito e o olhar acolhedor. quero dormir e poder acordar, e continuar vivendo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8319117015617719868?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8319117015617719868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8319117015617719868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/pra-todos-os-meus-motivos-preciso-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3101262771465454312</id><published>2009-07-10T12:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T23:00:03.494-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nada além de frases feitas ou clichês. tudo o que me cerca é feito de ironia ou hipocrisia me tornando irreal diante dos meus fatos. se isso tudo me cansa e se coisa alguma me satisfaz, por que não fugir? por que continuar com falsas vontades e desejos insignificantes? eu sei que posso mudar, eu sei que posso colocar cada peça em seu lugar, mas não seria tão reconfortante quanto o gosto de ter sempre algo bagunçado, ou ter sempre algo a fazer. se você disser que pode gostar de erros eu prometo gostar de tentativas. você pode ser a luz que tem me faltado, pode ser o caminho certo, pode se tornar importante pra mim. só preciso me acostumar com a idéia de ter alguém. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3101262771465454312?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3101262771465454312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3101262771465454312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/nada-alem-de-frases-feitas-ou-cliches.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-9054223452434692621</id><published>2009-07-10T10:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T23:03:47.894-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;'eu sei é um doce te amar, o amargo é querer-te pra mim.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-9054223452434692621?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9054223452434692621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9054223452434692621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/eu-sei-e-um-doce-te-amar-o-amargo-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5500455593766264883</id><published>2009-07-08T18:32:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T17:12:56.342-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;se a falta que você me faz pudesse ser contada, se o tempo que eu uso pensando em você pudesse ser transformado em momentos juntos com você. minha vida perdeu o sentido, meus dias perderam a graça. as cores ficaram vazias, as palavras, aguadas. eu só preciso do seu cheiro, do seu calor. eu quero suas mãos e seu abraço. preciso do seu carinho e da sua proteção. eu prometo te amar. eu não posso mais te esperar. só preciso ter você aqui, comigo, pra sempre e mesmo que o pra sempre não seja eterno. eu te amo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5500455593766264883?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5500455593766264883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5500455593766264883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/se-falta-que-voce-me-faz-pudesse-ser.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-6463893002513543898</id><published>2009-07-05T23:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:00:06.470-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;eu só queria mais um tempo pra tomar uma decisão. só queria poder separar melhor as coisas. queria entender o que eu sinto, o que eu quero. queria não ter medo. não me apavore nem me acorde fora de hora. eu quero dormir até tarde. eu quero não levantar pra atender o telefone. eu quero passar um tempo deitada pensando no que já foi ou no que poderia ter sido. e talvez no que nunca será. encontro meus erros mas não me esforço para mudar. continuo errando. minhas perspectivas vão além do que posso alcançar e minhas escolhas já não bastam. eu fico em silêncio, e isso sim basta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-6463893002513543898?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6463893002513543898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6463893002513543898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/07/eu-so-queria-mais-um-tempo-pra-tomar.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5212067421619016137</id><published>2009-06-28T15:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T21:59:31.856-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;sabe aquele beijo com sorvete? sabe aquele nosso pra sempre? sabe aquela música? eu os vi ontem todos em seus olhares fugitivos. fazia tempo que eu não me lembrava da sua existência, fazia dias que eu não pensava em você. fazia.. eu queria poder saber no que pensava quando me olhava, se lembrava ou apenas me via. se sentia falta ou apenas lamentava. eu quis dizer alguma coisa, eu quis chegar perto. meu coração acelerou, minhas pernas bambearam, minhas mãos gelaram. meus olhos brilharam e os seus também. eu tentei disfarçar mas você nem isso conseguiu. você se deu conta de tudo que poderíamos ter sido. ou talvez eu tenha me dado conta de que foi melhor assim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5212067421619016137?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5212067421619016137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5212067421619016137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/sabe-aquele-beijo-com-sorvete-sabe.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-42806860301893324</id><published>2009-06-24T22:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T22:26:08.687-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;foi nessa sua instabilidade em que eu depositei meus anseios. foi essa sua indiferença que me fez te enxergar. eu me privei, eu me maltratei, eu me magoei. nas suas frases curtas eu tento encontrar qualquer caminho que me leve até você. nos teus olhares eu procuro seus desejos e em seus lábios eu decodifico cada segundo. talvez se você olhasse ou tentasse me ver.. veria o quanto é importante pra mim. quem sabe não visse também a dor que me causa te ver tão longe, te ver inseguro ou não te ver. foi nessa sua vida estranha e errada que eu me vi seguindo a minha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-42806860301893324?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/42806860301893324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/42806860301893324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/foi-nessa-sua-instabilidade-em-que-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-4249688605192187627</id><published>2009-06-23T22:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T22:22:14.523-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;isso só prova que eu realmente não consigo chegar onde quero, não sei realizar meus sonhos e que sou fraca demais para merecer. me mostra que ficar parada não vai me levar a lugar algum e que lutar só vai me cansar. eu choro por medo, por insegurança, por falta de coragem mesmo. eu tento esconder mas só consigo enganar a mim. só consigo guardar de você tudo o que sinto. e realmente só você não vê. sinto sua falta mesmo sem te ter, sinto seu cheiro mesmo sem chegar perto. sinto suas mãos, sua proteção insegura. sua vontade de não sentir, seu desejo incontrolável de não amar. sinto você quando olho em seus olhos. a chuva cai pra disfarçar minhas lágrimas, o sono vem pra não mostrar minha derrota. e só você não vem..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-4249688605192187627?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4249688605192187627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4249688605192187627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/isso-so-prova-que-eu-realmente-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2468385021890860428</id><published>2009-06-21T20:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T21:09:16.963-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;é só a velha falta. é só o velho vazio. é só velha sensação de estar no lugar errado sempre. são apenas as antigas lágrimas me fazendo lembrar quem eu sou, tentando me colocar na linha. mas eu não me rendo, eu me engano novamente. e só eu sofro por isso. egoísmo ou até vontade de estar no centro do mundo, do meu mundo. medo ou falta de coragem. vergonha ou falta de atitude. insanidade ou falta de raciocínio. parei no tempo em busca de você.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2468385021890860428?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2468385021890860428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2468385021890860428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/e-so-velha-falta.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2092137407207430326</id><published>2009-06-21T20:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T20:37:27.253-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;e nada mais consegue me iludir, e isso me fere. nada mais me convence de que o céu é apenas azul, nada mais me prova que o amor é para todos e nada mais. me dói seguir em frente sem saber onde vou chegar. me dói olhar pra trás e ver que tudo foi em vão. dói ver você levando sua vida superficial e alheia às minhas utopias. dói respirar sem poder pensar em você, dói andar sem te ter ao meu lado, dói. eu não poderia reclamar, eu não poderia lamentar. eu não poderia. eu não viveria senão pela minha dor. eu não viveria senão pelas ilusões, senão pelas minhas paixões. eu não viveria. e nada me dói tanto quanto a sua falta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2092137407207430326?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2092137407207430326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2092137407207430326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/e-nada-mais-consegue-me-iludir-e-isso.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2675054188076713506</id><published>2009-06-20T23:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T23:12:39.117-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;peut-être alors vous pouvez me voir, vous pouvez me sentir ou même de me toucher. peut-être aussi, vous pouvez m'aimer.. ou peut-être.. uniquement je t'aime.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2675054188076713506?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2675054188076713506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2675054188076713506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/peut-etre-alors-vous-pouvez-me-voir.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3830118209281861815</id><published>2009-06-20T22:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T14:19:54.362-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;posso andar ao seu lado? posso ficar aqui? prometo não incomodar, prometo não falar nada. só quero ficar aqui, só por esta noite, só por um pouquinho. só.. até eu enjoar de você. posso ir embora agora? posso não te esquentar mais? preciso ir.. quero ir, agora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3830118209281861815?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3830118209281861815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3830118209281861815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/posso-andar-ao-seu-lado-posso-ficar.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-680115197007385937</id><published>2009-06-15T20:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T21:01:37.403-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;cheguei de viagem. foi um passeio confuso, hora sozinha, hora acompanhada, nem sempre por você. cheguei de viagem. ainda não desfiz as malas, ainda não troquei de roupa. estou esperando por você. esperando seu chamado. seu pedido para que eu volte e então eu estarei pronta. estou sempre pronta. cheguei de viagem. cheguei sem querer ter chegado. cheguei deixando a saudade pra trás. eu abandonei minha vida pra ir atrás de você. eu cheguei hoje, contrariada pelos meus anseios. eu vaguei pelas ruas do seu mundo à sua procura, mas não te encontrei. eu andei pelos seus caminhos e foi aí que me perdi. eu esperei por você e você se atrasou. cheguei de viagem. eu quis voltar mas ainda não desfiz as malas. eu quis voltar mas ainda te espero. apenas cheguei de viagem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-680115197007385937?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/680115197007385937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/680115197007385937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/cheguei-de-viagem.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1799790094221959310</id><published>2009-06-11T14:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T14:50:44.204-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;um brinde! um brinde aos homens tolos e ingênuos, que fingem não ver, ou realmente não vêem coisa alguma. um brinde à sua capacidade de ser indiferente e de nos fazer sofrer. um brinde aos seus olhares enigmáticos que nos entorpecem. um brinde aos sorrisos que nos encantam e nos fazem acreditar que tudo é perfeito na sua presença. um brinde às falsas palavras ditas para nos conquistar. um brinde aos seus passos tão seguros, seus atos obscuros e seus gestos tão confusos. um brinde ao homem que deveria estar lendo os meus desabafos. um brinde a você que tanto me ignora e insiste em não me ver. um brinde!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1799790094221959310?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1799790094221959310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1799790094221959310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/um-brinde-um-brinde-aos-homens-tolos-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3240750451641669470</id><published>2009-06-10T20:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T20:17:32.476-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;e o que a gente faz quando nada dá certo? o que a gente fala quando a vontade é de gritar? o que a gente sonha quando os pesadelos tomam conta de nossa mente? o que a gente faz quando a realidade é mais cruel? o que a gente faz quando quer chorar, chorar e chorar sem ter que voltar a fingir? o que a gente faz quando ama e não é amado? tenta fingir, tenta sorrir, tenta viver.. tentar cansa.. sorrir cansa.. amar cansa.. viver cansa.. é eu estou cansada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3240750451641669470?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3240750451641669470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3240750451641669470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/e-o-que-gente-faz-quando-nada-da-certo.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-6577818730117896771</id><published>2009-06-10T20:06:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T20:07:17.431-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;e nos meus olhos as lágrimas teimam em querer cair. um sorriso eu tento forçar para que vocês não percebam a minha angústia mas no fundo, eu não vou nada bem..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-6577818730117896771?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6577818730117896771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6577818730117896771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/e-nos-meus-olhos-as-lagrimas-teimam-em.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2193897842531157873</id><published>2009-06-05T22:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T22:56:00.173-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;se eu morresse amanhã, olharia em seus olhos e diria tudo aquilo que guardo em meu peito. se eu morresse amanhã, não teria medo de te abraçar. chegaria bem perto e sentiria teu cheiro. falaria ao teu ouvido todas as juras de amor escondidas. se eu morresse amanhã, levaria comigo todas as cenas imaginárias, todos os segredos confessados, todas as besteiras e todas as palavras enigmáticas. levaria todo o seu mistério e toda sua doçura, levaria todo o seu calor e te daria um único beijo. mas como não vou morrer amanhã, quem sabe um outro dia a gente se encontre por aí e você veja tudo o que eu desejo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2193897842531157873?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2193897842531157873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2193897842531157873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/se-eu-morresse-amanha-olharia-em-seus.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7759500669278824501</id><published>2009-06-04T21:50:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T17:21:52.591-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;e na diferença fizeram cada momento ser único. na semelhança encontraram o gostar. os olhos brilhavam, os lábios sorriam, o coração acelerava. eram juntos, eram sozinhos, eram perdidos, se encontraram. cada segundo era uma vida. cada vida era prometida. cada promessa foi cumprida. um beijo. uma pausa. outro beijo. um abraço demorado, uma sensação de conforto, um medo, uma insegurança e nada mais. e todo sonho se projetou no céu, e toda dor se dissolveu. e nada mais. nada mais além do amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7759500669278824501?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7759500669278824501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7759500669278824501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/e-na-diferenca-fizeram-cada-momento-ser.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2409597267803000315</id><published>2009-06-01T22:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T22:56:37.645-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;não espero nada em troca nem ao menos de presente, eu não quero minhas coisas perdidas em sua mente, eu passo os meus dias pensando em você, eu perco as minhas horas imaginando como seria, mas nada é tão real quanto aquilo que foi meu um dia e minhas palavras perdem o sentido diante da eterna busca de um vazio perdido na imensidão do seu sorriso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2409597267803000315?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2409597267803000315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2409597267803000315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/06/nao-espero-nada-em-troca-nem-ao-menos.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5094667264451904472</id><published>2009-05-26T22:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T20:58:16.684-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;ela era capaz de escolher seus caminhos e tinha nas mãos a decisão de quem queria ao seu lado. ela gostava de ideias, ele de fatos. ela sonhava, ele vivia. ela o tocava, ele temia. ela sorriu pra si mesma depois de um encontro casual. ela descobriu que era capaz de mudar o futuro, sentiu-se solta e resolveu deixar tudo pra mais tarde. talvez se arrependesse das escolhas, talvez o perdesse, mas preferiu dessa vez fazer diferente. a sorte lhe escapava por entre os vãos de uma vida falhada, por entre as faltas, por entre as mentiras e ela não queria nenhuma parte, o que fosse seu, seria inteiro e ela conseguiu tudo o que planejou. ela foi feliz, mais uma vez, pra só depois voltar a viver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5094667264451904472?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5094667264451904472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5094667264451904472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/ela-era-capaz-de-escolher-seus-caminhos.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8834357768724568422</id><published>2009-05-24T17:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T22:57:00.356-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;e enquanto ela sonhava com cada momento e tinha em mente cada detalhe, ele parecia não perceber, mas no fundo ele já sabia de tudo, ele também queria mas tinha medo. ela tomou uma decisão.. ela preferiu seguir sua vida como se nada tivesse acontecido, ela não quis mudar o que já estava certo. ela deixou pra trás sua vontade de viver, sua esperança, sua dor. ela se sentiu tão leve que foi capaz de voar, não teve mais a culpa de um segredo sendo carregado aos seus pés. sonhou alto demais, mas já sabia como voar, então não se machucou, apenas sentiu a doce brisa em sua face e nunca mais quis amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8834357768724568422?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8834357768724568422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8834357768724568422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-enquanto-ela-sonhava-com-cada-momento.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3282095402844589345</id><published>2009-05-15T14:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:07:39.148-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor se tem&lt;br /&gt;O amor lhe falta&lt;br /&gt;O amor contém&lt;br /&gt;O amor relata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Frases esquecidas&lt;br /&gt;Algumas adquiridas&lt;br /&gt;Várias respostas respondidas&lt;br /&gt;Mais nunca revividas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor que tem&lt;br /&gt;O amor que vai&lt;br /&gt;O amor mantém&lt;br /&gt;O amor não trai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor não acha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor constrói&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor relaxa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor não dói&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor aparece&lt;br /&gt;O amor não some&lt;br /&gt;O amor fortalece&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor permanece&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;No coração de um homem que ama!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;(Ivan Felipe)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3282095402844589345?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3282095402844589345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3282095402844589345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-amor.html' title='O Amor'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7795320992228791950</id><published>2009-05-14T21:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T21:06:08.351-03:00</updated><title type='text'>inouï</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7795320992228791950?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7795320992228791950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7795320992228791950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/inoui.html' title='inouï'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-4638948257023650783</id><published>2009-05-13T20:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:09:13.831-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;e depois de tanto conversarem, ele discretamente reparou em seus olhos negros, recentemente marcados por uma discreta maquiagem. reparou na roupa, escolhida de maneira que não chamasse muito a atenção, nas mãos nervosas e no perfume que exalava de seus cabelos ou da sua pele tomada banho. os olhares se cruzaram e ele sentiu o sorriso alegre tornar-se tímido ao aproximá-lo de seus lábios. a música seria eternizada. as mãos se aconchegaram uma à outra e o beijo aconteceu. tudo sumiu. tudo parou de existir. tudo era nada. ele a olhou como nunca havia feito. ela sorriu. ele gostava dela. ela o beijou. ele parou e pediu que nunca mais o deixasse. ela o deixou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-4638948257023650783?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4638948257023650783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/4638948257023650783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-depois-de-tanto-conversarem-ele.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2785923027473592627</id><published>2009-05-10T21:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:09:29.065-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;e eu continuo levando uma vida de talvez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2785923027473592627?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2785923027473592627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2785923027473592627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-eu-continuo-levando-uma-vida-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3811174744865889938</id><published>2009-05-04T22:04:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:11:59.286-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;isabela &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Isabela,namorada do amor primeiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Que sem ela tudo é derradeiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Como um barco sem vela e sem mar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Isabela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;O meu mundo gira em teu caminho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Que se um dia eu seguir sozinho,já valeu a pena te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;encontrar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Amanheceu o sol cabelos de Isabela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;É o mar da cor dos olhos dela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Que há de ser o meu entardecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Isabela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;É meu sono minha madrugada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;É meu tudo que sem ela é nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Minha amada,mesmo se for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Amanhece o sol cabelos de Isabela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;É o mar da cor dos olhos dela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Que há de ser o meu entardecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Isabela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;É meu sono,minha madrugada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;É meu tudo,que sem ela é nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Minha amada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(192,192,192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Se tiver de ser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3811174744865889938?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3811174744865889938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3811174744865889938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/isabela-isabelanamorada-do-amor.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3531001662095904823</id><published>2009-05-03T23:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:13:08.205-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0);font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"  &gt;e o vício que me domina ainda teima com minha alma sobre o valor de um passo dado errado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3531001662095904823?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3531001662095904823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3531001662095904823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-o-vicio-que-me-domina-ainda-teima-com.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8142468927232625936</id><published>2009-05-03T22:56:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T23:00:43.355-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;e se ele soubesse do vinho que bebi após sua partida, não teria nunca saído de dentro de mim, não teria nunca posto um fim. agora já está feito. morte. e se seu corpo ainda sangra em meus lençois cheirando a sexo, a culpa já não pode ser minha, fiz apenas o que meu coração desejou e isso foi ele, ainda vivo, que me ensinou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8142468927232625936?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8142468927232625936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8142468927232625936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-se-ele-soubesse-do-vinho-que-bebi.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1760542575132257674</id><published>2009-05-03T22:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T22:52:33.435-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Em uma noite fria você estava aqui, passou horas comigo me fazendo lembrar dos teus beijos e de como a tua mão me tocava, de como você me olhava enquanto me desejava. me fez esquecer dos novos desejos e dos novos amores, me fez querer voltar no tempo e de repente sumiu, deixando apenas o gosto na boca e o calor na minha pele. sumiu e deu lugar a um vazio que logo se preencheu por outro alguém, e eu vi você me olhando arrependido pedindo pra voltar. agora é tarde, você se foi e não deixou seu telefone, você se foi e não me deu seu endereço, você se foi e me deixou só a saudade e agora.. agora é tarde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1760542575132257674?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1760542575132257674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1760542575132257674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/em-uma-noite-fria-voce-estava-aqui.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8899363226113398200</id><published>2009-05-02T20:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T20:18:31.824-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Você vem sempre aqui?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Venho sim. E você?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu tava de bobeira por ai, e resolvi entrar, ai vi você de bobeira...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu tava encostada no balcão pedindo uma batida de vinho e você encostou do meu lado e pediu uma cerveja, olhou pra mim e disse –Oi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Você olhou para mim com um sorriso tímido e perguntei se você sempre vinha aqui, você sorriu e respondeu, -Sim. e você?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Você disse que entrou só por minha causa, achou que eu fosse uma conhecida.. Mas tinha se enganado, e já que estava la resolveu dar oi. Eu disse que estava com uma amiga e perguntei se não queria se sentar com a gente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sem ponderar respondo que sim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A gente se senta. Apresento-te minha amiga que logo encontra um conhecido e sai da mesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu meio se jeito, pois sou tímido e curioso começo a jogar verde com a finalidade de saber as coincidências..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu também sem jeito, entendo seus verdes e me faço de durona, coisa que odeio porque não gosto de fingir.. Então paro com o joguinho e me sinto mais à vontade.. Conversamos sobre a música que está tocando.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cross-Eyed Mary? jethro tull, um rock velhão, de viagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Com os presentes mais soltos, não se sabe se pelo vinho ou pela cerveja, a conversa fluía naturalmente, como velhos conhecidos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu conto que faz apenas três meses que estou na cidade e ainda não conheço o ponto principal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;E como quem não quer nada, como estrangeiro vindo de Asborg, mas naturalizado em Nacirema, convido você para dar uma volta pelo centro da cidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu como amante da noite aceito na hora.. Adoro andar a pé à noite.. Pagamos a conta e saímos. Deixou sua moto ali mesmo e eu como estava de carona apenas me despedi da amiga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Caminhando pelo centro da dita cidade você fica espantada com a cultura caótica dos sonacirema. Mas ao mesmo tempo em que o espanto aparece em seus olhos, o encanto toma conta, vendo as maravilhas de uma noite nacirema.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;É lua nova.. E a noite está estrela, porém bastante fria. Logo eu acostumada com as noites de londrina, um pouco mais quentes.. Estava incomodada com a temperatura baixa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Apesar de estarmos numa cidade tão fria quanto a Sibéria, não sentíamos tanto frio,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;uma espécie de áurea aquecia os corpos dos passantes de forma alucinada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Chegamos a uma ponte, estava bem escuro exceto pela luz vinda do céu.. Aquela áurea era sentida cada vez mais intensamente e você me fez uma pergunta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Pergunta de um louco com ambiguidade. -conheceu o centro? Você responde com ambigüidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Conheci o centro do universo em meio às tantas coisas boas vividas esta noite. Você olha e não entende a minha expressão confusa e lisonjeada. Dou-lhe um sorriso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;E sob um céu em que as luzes tocam o chão e em cima da ponte dos amantes dizendo coisas vãs e vazias, mas que fazem sentido aos perdidos na noite, promessas e planos, histórias e fatos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Rimos muito e o frio passou.. Me veio a angústia de saber que aquilo uma hora acabaria,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;eu voltaria para o meu apartamento recém decorado e cheirando a tinta fresca e você para onde eu ainda não sabia mas você me fez ver que eu poderia mudar isso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Tão certo como o caminhar na neve ou na areia sobrarão pegadas eu acharia teus rastros e você os meus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Talvez tudo o que foi oculto entre uma história e outra era a garantia de que algo estava pra acontecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Reticências..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Parados como estatuas a observar o fim do começo de uma noite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Olhando para a lua.. Nossos olhares se cruzaram..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(processando informações e previsões)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Com a lua sumindo e o sol se levantando a nossas costas, com o clarear do dia a vista de cima da ponte muda, uma bela visão se mostra, assim como a noite é bela, de uma forma o amanhecer faz tomarmos uma atitude mais ofensiva, sem verdes ou indiretas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Você me toma pela cintura e eu fecho os olhos.. Uma sensação diferente toma conta de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;E como uma musica dos Menudos, hoje a noite não tem luar acontece o beijo esperado pela noite inteira.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Esperado por dois amigos instantâneos.. Dois apaixonados pela noite.. E o beijo talvez tenha sido apenas o cartão de visitas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;E como todo cartão de visitas é guardado quando se gosta do lugar, voltamos a nos ver e a crescermos juntos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Você se ofereceu pra me levar pra casa. Era manhã de domingo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Seguimos lentamente para sua casa apreciando cada minuto. Chegando em sua casa você me faz um pergunta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Tem previsão para o domingo ou aceita tomar café comigo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;É domingo, previsões para o dia de hoje... Sem previsões aceito tomar café com você. E mesmo que tivesse previsões aceitaria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Entramos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Você gosta da minha cristaleira antiga e dos puffes espalhados pela sala sem um sofá. Na cozinha você se senta no banco alto próximo ao balcão e fica me olhando fazer torradas e passar o café.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Enquanto observo você preparando o café, pergunto se precisa de ajuda e complemento: "sei cuidar do leite!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu falo que preciso de você só pra ficar ali... Olhando-me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Com o desjejum completo começo a lavar a louça (manias domésticas).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Passamos o dia vendo filmes, conversando, ouvindo músicas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;O dia se finda, dois corpos acordados por 48 horas bem vividas, recostam a cabeça em um travesseiro e dormem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8899363226113398200?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8899363226113398200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8899363226113398200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/05/voce-vem-sempre-aqui-venho-sim.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2340401667486161860</id><published>2009-04-28T21:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T14:09:27.314-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O veneno do amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Era o primeiro dia daquele longo ano que havia chegado. Seria longo sim, mas não para Maria que acabara de completar seus trinta anos e ainda era solteira e não tivera filho algum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Maria, que nunca foi de chamar atenção por onde passava, tomou uma decisão discreta para o seu fim. Aproveitou-se do feriado, em que a família viajara e a cidade toda estava deserta e ligou a velha vitrola herdada do pai e nele tocou seu disco favorito, presente de um namorado, razão de tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;E foi ao som de Elvis Presley que no quarto de sua pequena casa, porém aconchegante, deu seu último suspiro, sem que ninguém a ouvisse, sem que o cachorro que mexia nos lixos da rua sentisse seu cheiro e corresse lamber suas pernas como de costume, sem que ele, apenas ele, sentisse sua falta ou chorasse sua partida, então deu o primeiro e derradeiro gole daquele veneno que traria à sua vida um fim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2340401667486161860?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2340401667486161860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2340401667486161860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-veneno-do-amor.html' title='O veneno do amor'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-3210735820283841</id><published>2009-04-18T18:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T20:26:28.752-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>você não percebe o mal que tá me causando? essa tua mania de me prender nos teus valores, nas tuas vontades e esse teu jeito de sempre conseguir o quer, jeitinho impertinente e irritante que no final conquista tudo o que eu não sou capaz, faz de mim um trapo que rende às tuas ordens e que sempre cede aos teus sinais. talvez se valesse à pena, se fosse alguém por quem eu precisasse lutar, mas nada disso é real, aliás você é realista demais e me faz cair todas as vezes em que tiro os pés do chão para sonhar com algo melhor para minha vida. eu almejo coisas melhores pra mim e não essa vidinha pacata a qual você me submete. tenho planos de fuga, vontade de sumir de perto, de voar sozinha, mas me sinto na obrigação de estar sempre perto e cuidar de você quando você faz as tuas besteiras. tenho que tolerar os teus vícios e até tuas verdades incovenientes. tenho que escutar tuas palavras chatas na hora errada. tenho que aguentar tua presença quando quero estar só. tenho que seguir as regras, chegar no horário quando a vontade é de não voltar. quero um dia ter a coragem de experimentar não te obedecer pra ver onde tudo isso vai parar. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-3210735820283841?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3210735820283841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/3210735820283841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/voce-nao-percebe-o-mal-que-ta-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5665752432744895260</id><published>2009-04-14T23:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T23:29:31.135-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>me entenda querido&lt;div&gt;só te quero por brincadeira&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;não se prenda por mim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;não vale a pena.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5665752432744895260?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5665752432744895260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5665752432744895260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/me-entenda-querido-so-te-quero-por.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5136561312980923570</id><published>2009-04-14T23:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T23:27:19.244-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;h3 class="smller"  style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-left: 84px; font-family:Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);  line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Eu quis o perigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;h3 class="smller"  style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 16px; margin-left: 84px; font-family:Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);  line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;e até sangrei sozinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="para"  style=" margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 2px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: 84px; font-family:Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Entenda - assim pude trazer você de volta prá mim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Quando descobri que é sempre só você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Que me entende do início ao fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;E é só você que tem a cura para o meu vício&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;De insistir nessa saudade que eu sinto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;De tudo que eu ainda não vi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5136561312980923570?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5136561312980923570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5136561312980923570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/eu-quis-o-perigo-e-ate-sangrei-sozinho.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-6609894927587555180</id><published>2009-04-13T22:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T22:28:29.469-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;e o que eu tinha escapou por entre os vãos dos meus dedos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-6609894927587555180?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6609894927587555180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6609894927587555180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/e-o-que-eu-tinha-escapou-por-entre-os.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2433413774268421203</id><published>2009-04-12T16:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T13:31:12.668-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);" &gt;uma vontade inédita me tomou conta hoje, uma saudade dos dias em que tua amizade me valia mais que teu amor, saudade de conversas noturnas sem rumores de interesse, sem anseios esperançosos de um beijo teu. desejo que eu nunca havia sentido. é a falta de você se espalhando pela minha memória, é a falta do amigo que você foi quando eu precisei, das palavras de apoio que você me mostrou, e só depois, de tudo aquilo que vivemos juntos. dos nossos banhos de chuva, da noite deitados na grama contando as estrelas, e sabe aquela blusa que eu usava nesse dia? eu estava com ela hoje e talvez só por isso, mas só talvez, eu tenha sentido essa tua falta. apenas uma peça de roupa que com os olhos você a tirava numa noite quente, apenas um tecido cobrindo meu corpo e suas mãos teimavam em tirá-lo do lugar, e só talvez isso seja uma blusa ou quem sabe uma ironia do destino? prefiro que seja apenas um tecido. ou só talvez..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2433413774268421203?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2433413774268421203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2433413774268421203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/uma-vontade-inedita-me-tomou-conta-hoje.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-6272293798705555467</id><published>2009-04-09T22:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T22:34:31.393-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;vou te ignorar daqui pra frente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;talvez só hoje, talvez pra sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;vou te transformar no que eu quero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;e de você, nada mais espero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-6272293798705555467?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6272293798705555467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/6272293798705555467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/vou-te-ignorar-daqui-pra-frente-talvez.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7331058958590476492</id><published>2009-04-09T22:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T22:30:25.535-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;se tu soubesses o que se passa em minha cabeça&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;virias correndo me abraçar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;talvez dirias para que eu te esqueça&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;talvez até pudesses me amar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;se tua vida já não cabe a mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;se teus beijos já não me pertencem mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;eu vou viver até chegar meu fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;vou sozinha à procura do meu cais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7331058958590476492?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7331058958590476492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7331058958590476492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/se-tu-soubesses-o-que-se-passa-em-minha.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8389723155907396219</id><published>2009-04-06T23:51:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:52:22.814-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;'..me dê a mão, vem ser a minha estrela, complicação, tão fácil de entender..'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8389723155907396219?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8389723155907396219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8389723155907396219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_06.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5191596072810433466</id><published>2009-04-06T23:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:50:29.301-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;o medo de tentar é tão grande quanto a vontade de conseguir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5191596072810433466?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5191596072810433466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5191596072810433466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-medo-de-tentar-e-tao-grande-quanto.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7768784037905017727</id><published>2009-04-05T18:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T18:07:11.541-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;à espera da sua doçura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;à mercê da sua procura..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7768784037905017727?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7768784037905017727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7768784037905017727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/espera-da-sua-docura-merce-da-sua.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8926495934216802082</id><published>2009-04-05T17:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T18:01:54.326-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(101, 101, 101); font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 11px; "&gt;&lt;pre style="text-align: right;white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;'E atravessa o vazio entre nós&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="text-align: right;white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;pra te dar a mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="text-align: right;white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;(...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New'; white-space: normal; "&gt;&lt;pre style="text-align: right;white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;No seu olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New'; white-space: normal; "&gt;&lt;pre style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word; "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; "&gt;Me vejo andar no ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; "&gt;lá no abismo lindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;no seu olhar'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8926495934216802082?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8926495934216802082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8926495934216802082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/e-atravessa-o-vazio-entre-nos-pra-te.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7336156639765039714</id><published>2009-04-05T00:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T16:29:45.539-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;não me cabem as horas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;nem teus anseios &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;quanto mais teus segredos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;não me chores as dores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;de outros amores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;nem de teus medos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;não me cobre a demora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;se me atraso pra roda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;nem me tentes meu caro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;não te dou minha vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;nem curaste a ferida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;deste último acaso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7336156639765039714?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7336156639765039714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7336156639765039714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/nao-me-cabem-as-horas-nem-teus-anseios.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5630005369672018468</id><published>2009-04-04T22:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T23:40:08.718-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquele desejo insignificante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquele sonho frustrante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquele olhar fulminante &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquele amor distante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquela estrada andante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquela vontade ardente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquela utopia cadente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquela data recente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquele sol poente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquela dor presente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquela mão sedenta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquele abraço apertado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquela brincadeira inocente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;aquele fim esperado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;mas não completamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5630005369672018468?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5630005369672018468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5630005369672018468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/aquele-desejo-insignificante-aquele.html' title=''/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5557679191395007610</id><published>2009-04-03T22:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T22:50:38.667-03:00</updated><title type='text'>ontem.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;tristeza. cair. ajuda. amigos. levantar. novo. cumplicidade. paixão. distância. mudança. saudade. volta. indiferença. frio. tempo. troca. volta. próximo. dúvida. erro. vontade. mentira. oculto. incerteza. escondido. consciência. choro. esperar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5557679191395007610?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5557679191395007610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5557679191395007610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/ontem.html' title='ontem.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-8054516238216654848</id><published>2009-04-03T22:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T22:34:13.176-03:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Aonde está você agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Além de aqui dentro de mim?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-8054516238216654848?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8054516238216654848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/8054516238216654848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_8752.html' title='.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1182634722137582264</id><published>2009-04-03T22:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T22:32:10.816-03:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;sua pureza me consome.. o pecado mora em meus pensamentos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1182634722137582264?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1182634722137582264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1182634722137582264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_03.html' title='.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-7235362334268844340</id><published>2009-04-03T14:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T14:05:33.774-03:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"eu sonhei com você e acordei sem querer, mas queria continuar.. E foi tão bom imaginar, você também a me sonhar.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-7235362334268844340?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7235362334268844340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/7235362334268844340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/eu-sonhei-com-voce-e-acordei-sem-querer.html' title='.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-9164949968336441357</id><published>2009-04-02T22:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T16:31:47.777-03:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"sempre do meu lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;sem nunca me abandonar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;mesmo sem ter me amado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;sempre soube me amar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;quando ao longe me avistava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;nem atravessava a rua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;não porque não me amava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;sim pela vista escura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;mesmo não te conhecendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;mesmo não lembrando de você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;sei que certamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;nunca irei te esquecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;se um dia me amar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;sem saber que percebi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;pode até me matar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;mas eu já te esqueci"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(João Lugli Junior.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-9164949968336441357?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9164949968336441357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9164949968336441357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1353952973461818737</id><published>2009-03-30T22:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T22:19:45.116-03:00</updated><title type='text'>solidão.</title><content type='html'>a cada segundo que passo sem você &lt;div&gt;sinto que vou perdendo pedaços de mim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;em cada vez que vejo seus olhos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;faz frio em meu coração&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;minha vida vai se tornando vazia &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;meus motivos sem inspiração&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;meus desejos se esvaem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e eu acabo na solidão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1353952973461818737?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1353952973461818737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1353952973461818737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/03/solidao.html' title='solidão.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5351758317752915284</id><published>2009-03-30T22:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T22:07:50.728-03:00</updated><title type='text'>você.</title><content type='html'>preciso me soltar de ti. estou presa a um sentimento que destrói: o amor. esse amor que você me ensinou. eu não te quero mais me seguindo, por tudo onde vou. tudo ainda me lembra você, tudo ainda vejo você. eu até finjo que não ligo mas muito me dói. dói saber que faço parte de um passado que não  volta mais, nem às suas lembranças. sua vida continua e a minha, parou. ela até caminha de vez enquando mas se penso em ti, ela pára. e tudo pára. quero minha liberdade de volta. quero minha vida de volta, meu coração, meu amor.. quero de volta.. você.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5351758317752915284?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5351758317752915284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5351758317752915284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/03/voce.html' title='você.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-5436787710607089850</id><published>2009-03-29T23:32:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T23:32:40.867-03:00</updated><title type='text'>realizo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Mas se eu não sonhar, não terei o que realizar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;por isso sonho contigo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;para quando meus olhos se abrirem,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;meus lábios se encontrarem sorrindo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pois você não é apenas um sonho&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;você vai muito além de uma utopia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;você é a minha alegria&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;minha vontade de viver&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;você ja faz parte da minha vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;é minha felicidade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;é meu desejo, é minha vontade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;você é tudo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;é simplesmente a minha realidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-5436787710607089850?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5436787710607089850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/5436787710607089850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/03/realizo.html' title='realizo.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-9112363820028776038</id><published>2009-03-29T23:26:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T23:28:30.803-03:00</updated><title type='text'>sinestesia.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;seu olhar me faz sentir como se pudesse voar ou andar sobre as águas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sua voz é a mais doce música e me causa nostalgia ao ouví-la&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;seu toque é o mais puro algodão sobre a minha pele que se arrepia ao se aproximar da sua&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;seu perfume me entontece, me enfeitiça, me enlouquece&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;seu beijo dispensa palavras, é simplesmente o melhor gosto que meus lábios já ousaram sentir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me rendo ao seu encanto, finjo que não lembro, mas nunca esqueci&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;finjo que não sinto sua falta mas procuro em outras faltas esquivar-me de você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-9112363820028776038?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9112363820028776038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/9112363820028776038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/03/sinestesia.html' title='sinestesia.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-2947318366800670472</id><published>2009-03-29T23:26:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T23:30:53.518-03:00</updated><title type='text'>escuridão.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;sinto a falta do que eu não tive de você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sinto a falta das suas doces palavras&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sussurradas em meu ouvido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;em meio a beijos e abraços&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no calor da escuridão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sinto a dor de um amor inexistente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sinto a dor do nosso adeus E&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;carrego comigo uma saudade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;saudade do que hoje se tornou impossível&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas meu amigo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mais do que nunca te levo sempre em meu coração.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-2947318366800670472?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2947318366800670472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/2947318366800670472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/03/sinto-falta-do-que-eu-nao-tive-de-voce.html' title='escuridão.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-734326599446134569</id><published>2009-03-29T23:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T23:31:31.310-03:00</updated><title type='text'>me ame.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;me leve e me conduza&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;eu me entrego e te sigo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nessa vida tão confusa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;você não passa de um amigo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;feche meus olhos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sussure aos meus ouvidos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;faça-me esquecer das horas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ilumine os meus caminhos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me engane&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;eu acredito,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e te digo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;apenas me ame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-734326599446134569?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/734326599446134569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/734326599446134569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/03/me-leve-e-me-conduza-eu-me-entrego-e-te.html' title='me ame.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2611629963966669267.post-1594017309299243042</id><published>2009-03-29T16:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T18:43:03.450-03:00</updated><title type='text'>falta.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;a falta de alguém, alguém com seus olhos, sua boca, seus beijos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;a falta da sua presença, das suas palavras, dos seus carinhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;das madrugadas conversando, dos segredos trocados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;dos planos de um futuro, utópico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;posso ser mais específica,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;não alguém que passei muito tempo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;foi curto o espaço, algumas horas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;é a falta de noites como aquela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;de mãos escondidas, de frases bonitas, de um olhar doce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;da timidez, do escuro, do medo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;do erro, dos minutos a mais, da mentira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;falta de um nada, de um vazio depois, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;falta da saudade, da distância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;do perfume, do gosto, do toque&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;falta da esperança, da vontade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;da ansiedade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;falta do menino bonito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;do amigo, aquele que me trocou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;falta de alguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;falta de você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2611629963966669267-1594017309299243042?l=esquecadashoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1594017309299243042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2611629963966669267/posts/default/1594017309299243042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esquecadashoras.blogspot.com/2009/03/falta.html' title='falta.'/><author><name>Alors</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15247790302609306912</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
