domingo, 26 de dezembro de 2010

The man of my dreams

How is the man of your dreams?
Is he tall with dark hair and blue eyes? is he blond with green eyes?
Those things never really mattered to me
The man of my dreams hasn’t change much in the past years
He was always more or less like this:
He would know how to play the guitar, and on those nights I was feeling blue he would play me a song, one that he did to me
He would know how to draw, and for some people his drawings wouldn’t make much sense, but for me it would be as clear as water
He would know how to speak English, other wise how would we make fun of peoples face with out then knowing?
He would love coffee, and we would spend the cold afternoons under the covers drink coffee and watching a movie
He would love to read and we would discuss about Stephen king’s last novel
He would have tattoos, but not just a tribal or a meaningless dragon, he would tattoo thing that really meant something to him
He would love dogs, movies, music, rainy days, and most important, he would love me, He would love me for who I am, not for who I can be, he would love me more than anything, he would love me for the rest of our lives.

Maiara Cristina de Mira

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