《Cartas da Lua》Talvez você
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Não consigo me lembrar do dia que comecei a olhar para você da forma que eu olho agora. Não sei se no dia fazia sol, como você gosta, talvez estivesse um pouco frio sem chuva, do jeito que eu gosto. Não sei se eu estava triste como de costume e você me animando. Não sei se foi no meio de uma conversa sobre besteiras qualquer. Mas eu não me lembro. Queria conseguir me lembrar, mas meus esforços não adiantam de nada. Juro que eu tentei.
Queria saber o que foi. Eu não sei. Tento me esforçar para descobrir o que realmente aconteceu para você chamar tanto a minha atenção de uma hora para a outra, mas eu simplesmente não consigo. Talvez tenha sido o modo como você me tratava, sempre foi carinhoso demais. Talvez tenha sido as brigas de todos os dias, que sempre me deixaram exausta, mas no fundinho eu sempre gostei. Talvez tenha sido o seu sorriso, que sempre foi bonito demais. Talvez tenha sido o longo tempo que nós nos conhecemos, tempo demais. Talvez tenha sido o seu jeito desleixado. Talvez tenha sido o modo como você olha a vida, completamente diferente de mim. Talvez tenha sido o seu abraço, que fez os outros não terem sentido ou graça. Talvez tenha sido os seus olhos que tinham aquele brilho, cor e intensidade diferente. Talvez tenha sido o modo como só você me entende e me conhece como ninguém.
Talvez. Talvez. Talvez. Talvez.
Após tantas possibilidades e opções eu ainda não consegui encontrar o real motivo que me fez querer você, descobri que surgiram mais motivos para eu continuar. Talvez o modo como você passou a me olhar depois daquela terça-feira que eu falamos a verdade um para o outro, talvez o modo como você fica bonito com vergonha, talvez o modo como penteia o cabelo, talvez o jeito que você gagueja quando está nervoso, talvez a sua voz, talvez o seu jeito espontâneo demais, talvez o seu jeito cara de pau, talvez o modo como você me faz sorrir sem esforço algum, talvez o seu abraço que passou a ser mais apertado, talvez sua boca que ficou mais próxima da minha, talvez o seu cheiro, talvez o seu beijo...
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Quando eu descobrir eu te ligo ou mando uma mensagem ou uma carta ou um telegrama ou um sinal de fumaça ou simplesmente te falo, olhando nos seus mais belos olhos, mas só depois da conversa jogada fora, do abraço apertado, do sorriso e dos beijos que são incansáveis.
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