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Meu dodo extinto, extinguiste do mesmo modo as nossas palavras inacabadas, extintas estão também todas as nossas memórias e os sonhos morrem à beira de água. Fomos bons recordo, e sei que te é difícil aceitar assim a minhas palavras, tudo porque tudo o que sou nunca foi suficiente, tudo o que és não gosta daquilo que vê. Fomos bons gostava de recordar, e penso quase em ter-te amada um dia. Pois dia a dia tudo morre no silêncio em que me deixas. Fomos bons? Não sei.

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