What in it joins them not yet was invented tile

What in it joins them not yet was invented. It will be a complicity, a lighted communion, a passion that is loved. What in it joins them not yet was invented. Taste to be thought that nothing in we will erase them of, whom nor the death - the more the life - force will have stops them to separate. Your lips of meat and fire, your skin that, with mine, is grasped to the time and make it to stop. E later the sweat, the moan. E the sensation, always the sensation, of that, no matter how hard the bodies yield and the respirations stop, something thus will not finish. Because what he is eternal it does not only finish. Pedro Freitas Chagas Plant of Writing