I look at my hands as I lay, alone, in the dark, and I dont think they're motherless hands.
But it's been a while since you touched them, held them close to your heart;
I miss you with every beat of mine, but I wish I could forget your hands. I wish I could forget you.
I look at my hands and I wonder when I became this, when We became this: 10 minutes chats once a week, even less.
You were my best friend, and now I don't think you know me, at all.
When I was a kid I thought I would hold onto your hands forever, but now, as I look at my hands, alone, in the dark, I see they are cold, small and motherless hands.
Saudade é pouco, sinto falta.












