<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939</id><updated>2024-09-11T17:59:46.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do outro lado</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-2299937746764177665</id><published>2012-08-06T09:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-08-06T09:21:16.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #ffffdd; font-family: monospace; font-size: 16px; text-align: -webkit-center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://ibsn.org/&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;IBSN: Internet Blog Serial Number 135-791-358-1&quot; src=&quot;http://ibsn.org/barcode/135-791-358-1.gif&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/2299937746764177665/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2012/08/ibsn-internet-blog-serial-number-135.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/2299937746764177665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/2299937746764177665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2012/08/ibsn-internet-blog-serial-number-135.html' title=''/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-7317973539012138030</id><published>2010-11-29T16:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T16:32:26.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma vida sem amor</title><content type='html'>Uma vida sem amor&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É como se fosse&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Duas gotas de água&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Separadas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Papel de carta&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Em branco&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Onde se lê&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um pranto&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Árvores desfolhadas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sementes sem alma&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma vida sem amor&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É como um sorriso retido&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Somente imaginado&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Numa manhã qualquer&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sem alguém ao seu lado&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma vida sem amor&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É rua de pedras pontiagudas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Canção não musicada&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Abraço perdido&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Beijo não beijado&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma lua despedaçada&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
È querer correr&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Não podendo alcançar&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A miragem almejada&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma vida sem amor&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É uma noite fria&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sem lareira&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sem um vinho morno&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sem um olhar no outro&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É quase um nada&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tudo que não é&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É gritar junto a serra&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
E não ouvir o sim&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Que tanto se quer&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma vida sem amor&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É o vazio de ser&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
È quando almas &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Correm desesperadas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
E na estrada sonhada&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tentam se encontrar&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
E para sempre se perder...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/7317973539012138030/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/11/uma-vida-sem-amor.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/7317973539012138030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/7317973539012138030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/11/uma-vida-sem-amor.html' title='Uma vida sem amor'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-5829847797163914853</id><published>2010-10-26T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T14:05:10.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tulipas levarei comigo...</title><content type='html'>Não me importa no hoje&lt;br /&gt;
Se o mundo não se atreve&lt;br /&gt;
A crer em si mesmo&lt;br /&gt;
Nem me importam por hoje&lt;br /&gt;
Folhas caídas&lt;br /&gt;
Solos sustenidos&lt;br /&gt;
Jardins suspensos&lt;br /&gt;
Das esperas&lt;br /&gt;
Estou conectado com um arco-íris&lt;br /&gt;
E a noite me diz boa tarde&lt;br /&gt;
Porque o amanhã virá&lt;br /&gt;
Certamente&lt;br /&gt;
E eu irei&lt;br /&gt;
Até onde eu poder ir&lt;br /&gt;
Porém, tulipas&lt;br /&gt;
Levarei comigo...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__VQX2Xn7tI&amp;amp;feature=related&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/5829847797163914853/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/10/tulipas-levarei-comigo.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/5829847797163914853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/5829847797163914853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/10/tulipas-levarei-comigo.html' title='Tulipas levarei comigo...'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-7383750054361677087</id><published>2010-10-25T10:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T10:37:27.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ilhas</title><content type='html'>Olho-me &lt;br /&gt;
Sou mesmo uma ilha&lt;br /&gt;
A ilha de mim mesma&lt;br /&gt;
Apaixonada, sigo&lt;br /&gt;
Entre mim e mim&lt;br /&gt;
Duas ilhas&lt;br /&gt;
Aprisionam-me&lt;br /&gt;
Recantos de mim&lt;br /&gt;
Assim me ensaio&lt;br /&gt;
Preservo-me&lt;br /&gt;
Aprendo-me&lt;br /&gt;
Olho-me&lt;br /&gt;
Apaixonado, sigo&lt;br /&gt;
Nesse mundo tão distante&lt;br /&gt;
Esse outro meu&lt;br /&gt;
Abre-me&lt;br /&gt;
Cuido para não quebrar-me&lt;br /&gt;
Ainda preciso-me&lt;br /&gt;
Presisam-me&lt;br /&gt;
Estou lá&lt;br /&gt;
Eu - a ilha&lt;br /&gt;
Eu deserto&lt;br /&gt;
Apaixonada por tudo que ainda respira&lt;br /&gt;
E respiro também&lt;br /&gt;
Ancoro-me&lt;br /&gt;
Divido-me no indivisível&lt;br /&gt;
No amor inquieto-me&lt;br /&gt;
Encarcero-me oposta ao ódio&lt;br /&gt;
Há o medo dentro do medo&lt;br /&gt;
A coragem de se ilhar&lt;br /&gt;
Para depois talvez&lt;br /&gt;
Encontrar-se noutros medos&lt;br /&gt;
Olho-te&lt;br /&gt;
Estás ilhado também!&lt;br /&gt;
Respiro-te a mim&lt;br /&gt;
Vontades ungidas&lt;br /&gt;
Voltar a ser&lt;br /&gt;
O que não se entendeu...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/7383750054361677087/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/10/ilhas.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/7383750054361677087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/7383750054361677087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/10/ilhas.html' title='Ilhas'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-4201123728384008595</id><published>2010-09-26T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T12:31:16.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Esse novo</title><content type='html'>Ando conversando sobre o sentir. Os modos de sentir. Jeito de sentir. As novas formas de expressar nos cabelos, na postura do rosto, na roupas, toda a solidão, toda a agressividade, toda a deslealdade, todo o medo em nós de nós mesmos e o medo dos outros. O cabelo caiu nos olhos, transbordou da cabeça caindo na testa como pano de palco. Os olhos espertos desde a nova infância a segredar somente a si mesmo o eu, agora não tão mais exposto, nem tanto sincero, nem mesmo hipócritas os homens se mostram. O amor está entre um acerto e mil erros, muito próximo a um acordo, um tratado de loucos. O sorriso nasce desconfiado e perdura a pendular entre puritano e malvado nesse novo mar. Tudo é computado, analisado, globalmente sintetizado e não mais se sabe onde se está de verdade nesse mundo denominado “desamor”.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Theresa Russo</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/4201123728384008595/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/09/esse-novo.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4201123728384008595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4201123728384008595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/09/esse-novo.html' title='Esse novo'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-3289310187174633227</id><published>2010-09-21T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T17:02:59.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Um quase</title><content type='html'>Há a procura da areia fina e exata &lt;br /&gt;
Areia orgânica ou sais do nada&lt;br /&gt;
Para me preencher esse buraco no meio do meu eu&lt;br /&gt;
O pescoço nega-me que o tudo é um quase &lt;br /&gt;
Todo dia amanhece o sol bem dentro das minhas plantas&lt;br /&gt;
Meus lábios contam a historia que eu vi&lt;br /&gt;
A que eu vivi&lt;br /&gt;
Algumas vezes eu converso comigo&lt;br /&gt;
Esse é o homem que me fará esquecer&lt;br /&gt;
Eu reconheço que ele não existirá&lt;br /&gt;
Todo dia ele não celebrará meu eu&lt;br /&gt;
Eu não sei&lt;br /&gt;
Mas eu preciso saber o que há...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/3289310187174633227/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/09/um-quase.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/3289310187174633227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/3289310187174633227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/09/um-quase.html' title='Um quase'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-4084063061066574504</id><published>2010-09-18T16:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-18T16:24:36.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma rosa para Vanessa</title><content type='html'>Havia uma rosa no jardim das vidas. Havia nela raízes do querer ser, existir, sentir, amar, conhecer. Havia uma rosa no jardim das vidas e ela era tocável. Era intocável essa rosa, pois, a rosa era viva. Era bela - ela, essa rosa flor. Eu visitei o jardim um dia, sem vê-la. Outro dia a vi talvez. Talvez a rosa tenha também me visto aqui. Mas, nunca jardineiro estive desse talvez. Folhas que se dependuravam em verde escuro do verde que seria claro quando a luz se fizesse. Espinhos sobressaltados como lebres desentocadas ressurgindo na noite nunca calma. A mente ardendo em fogo alto, nunca brando, nunca morno, cinzas espalhadas pelo chão das pétalas caóticas. Havia a água do viver, pingentes em versos líquidos, azulados dos olhos da rosa pálida. Havia uma vontade do amor ancestral. A rosa era verdade e o jardim agora se veste de saudade...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Theresa Russo</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/4084063061066574504/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/09/uma-rosa-para-vanessa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4084063061066574504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4084063061066574504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/09/uma-rosa-para-vanessa.html' title='Uma rosa para Vanessa'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-9201097855301481019</id><published>2010-09-03T15:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T07:40:33.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia após dia</title><content type='html'>Dia após dia&lt;br /&gt;
Eu entro em minha mente&lt;br /&gt;
Para me dizer antes&lt;br /&gt;
Dia após dia&lt;br /&gt;
Minha mente mente&lt;br /&gt;
E mente&lt;br /&gt;
E mente&lt;br /&gt;
Dia após dia&lt;br /&gt;
Eu entro em meu antigo conceito&lt;br /&gt;
Faço tudo direito&lt;br /&gt;
Converso com minha mente&lt;br /&gt;
Nova mente&lt;br /&gt;
Aquela que me traz outra semente&lt;br /&gt;
Sem mente&lt;br /&gt;
Ando&lt;br /&gt;
Assim super nova&lt;br /&gt;
Super era&lt;br /&gt;
Super sensata&lt;br /&gt;
Super louca nata&lt;br /&gt;
Eu que nada fui&lt;br /&gt;
E ainda serei&lt;br /&gt;
Mente&lt;br /&gt;
Mente...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/9201097855301481019/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/09/dia-apos-dia.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/9201097855301481019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/9201097855301481019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/09/dia-apos-dia.html' title='Dia após dia'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-4162793409426494416</id><published>2010-08-30T10:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T10:35:17.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object height=&quot;132&quot; width=&quot;353&quot;&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.goear.com/files/external.swf?file=6664b42&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; quality=&quot;high&quot; width=&quot;353&quot; height=&quot;132&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/4162793409426494416/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4162793409426494416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4162793409426494416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-3244532166510181822</id><published>2010-08-30T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T09:59:50.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>João, o filho</title><content type='html'>Uso um bisturi afiado&lt;br /&gt;
Tateio e passeio pelo meu útero&lt;br /&gt;
Retiro num golpe delicado a capa protetora&lt;br /&gt;
Há uma janela sem tela&lt;br /&gt;
Sangue vermelho carmim&lt;br /&gt;
Procuro por você em agonia&lt;br /&gt;
Porque eu jurei que estava aqui&lt;br /&gt;
Que estava lá&lt;br /&gt;
Era um casulo de esperança&lt;br /&gt;
Levava nele a força da magia&lt;br /&gt;
De ser e fazer ser&lt;br /&gt;
Foi no dia em que se transformou&lt;br /&gt;
No bípede sorridente&lt;br /&gt;
Que minha mãe enorme&lt;br /&gt;
Alcançou a tua pequenina&lt;br /&gt;
E nossos olhares eram um só&lt;br /&gt;
Quando eu soube&lt;br /&gt;
Que ia te amar mais que tudo na vida...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/3244532166510181822/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/joao-o-filho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/3244532166510181822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/3244532166510181822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/joao-o-filho.html' title='João, o filho'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-4955448192075283153</id><published>2010-08-28T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T12:37:05.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Como a flor do mandacarú</title><content type='html'>E ali estava &lt;br /&gt;
Invisível objeto&lt;br /&gt;
Quase um ser por existir&lt;br /&gt;
Habitando a mente&lt;br /&gt;
O dito coração&lt;br /&gt;
As mãos&lt;br /&gt;
O estomago e as pernas&lt;br /&gt;
Lugares escolhidos&lt;br /&gt;
Vagando como luz&lt;br /&gt;
Refletindo-se&lt;br /&gt;
Estava ali&lt;br /&gt;
Tinha mandado ir&lt;br /&gt;
Exorcizado para um alçapão mental&lt;br /&gt;
Aninhara-se&lt;br /&gt;
Nos segundos, horas e meses nus&lt;br /&gt;
Quase trinta, era o dia vinte e oito&lt;br /&gt;
E como flor do mandacaru&lt;br /&gt;
Brotou do desejo doido&lt;br /&gt;
Porque aquele amor&lt;br /&gt;
Ainda estava lá...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.R.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/4955448192075283153/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/como-flor-do-mandacaru.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4955448192075283153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4955448192075283153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/como-flor-do-mandacaru.html' title='Como a flor do mandacarú'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-1398002669370370173</id><published>2010-08-18T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T20:20:26.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu jardim secreto</title><content type='html'>Os insetos me picavam&lt;br /&gt;
Era meu sangue uma mensagem&lt;br /&gt;
Delírio ou desejo&lt;br /&gt;
Minha vermelha virtude&lt;br /&gt;
A me perguntar de mim&lt;br /&gt;
Entrei no jardim das rosas&lt;br /&gt;
Flores, miosótis&lt;br /&gt;
Orquídeas e girassóis&lt;br /&gt;
Quase nua eu era&lt;br /&gt;
Uma aberração&lt;br /&gt;
Eu estava fantasiada&lt;br /&gt;
Do meu outro lado&lt;br /&gt;
Onde eu estava?&lt;br /&gt;
Em estado de hipnose&lt;br /&gt;
Forte com um touro&lt;br /&gt;
Era eu um beija-flor!&lt;br /&gt;
Em todas as rosas&lt;br /&gt;
Mil e uma delas em uma&lt;br /&gt;
Única minha flor&lt;br /&gt;
Meu amor...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/1398002669370370173/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/meu-jardim-secreto.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/1398002669370370173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/1398002669370370173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/meu-jardim-secreto.html' title='Meu jardim secreto'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-2024878439522446265</id><published>2010-08-12T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T11:34:14.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simulação</title><content type='html'>Entrei no sorriso porta semi-aberta. Visualizei os dois muros paredes invisíveis – uma de cá outra por lá. Senti tecida a rede fina orgânica dos teus pensamentos recheados de fluidos densos que me embriagam um desejo. Emaranhei-me na sinceridade das tuas fibras delicadas e rijas como microfios de aço. Eu que tenho as asas em mim voei bem alto para entornar e digerir cada uma das paredes. Foram-se os dias da vez que me prendi nas delicadíssimas fibras derivadas de ti. Eu talvez já não seja o andante e o fugitivo eterno que te conquistou um dia... Asas para que te quero se quem me prende me sabe estar aqui quando da volta e retorno vem? Talvez eu tenha tido a chance da maior loucura de amor. Ensaiei meu primitivo vôo...Aqui portanto, ainda estou...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/2024878439522446265/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/simulado-voo-para-fugir-de-ti-escape.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/2024878439522446265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/2024878439522446265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/simulado-voo-para-fugir-de-ti-escape.html' title='Simulação'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-3720983134616423210</id><published>2010-08-06T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T18:55:36.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doce vida</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Doce vida&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que me amarga o instante?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu não queria o que quero tanto&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;E o que tanto queria não quero, portanto!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amarga vida&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que não me adocica essa tarde&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mastiga-me a alma que arde&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;No balançar da indecisão?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hoje quero essa quimera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que do ontem me foi ilusão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Agora me acorda um tenro fado&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Coisas da imaginação!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;É então o amor um crápula&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que brinca com a minha emoção?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dia há que eu não hesite&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em mergulhar na imensidão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Noite há que eu não fite&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;O abismo dessa alucinação&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero e não quero&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desejo sim, desejo não&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando termina esse mistério&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;E enfim se faz um “que” então?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;RUSSO,T.C.F. 31 de julho de 2010&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/3720983134616423210/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/doce-vida.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/3720983134616423210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/3720983134616423210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/08/doce-vida.html' title='Doce vida'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-4352329166754809407</id><published>2010-06-24T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T06:34:22.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Andante</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Andante&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jamais pensei em encontra-me enfim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É quase um acordar em outra manhã&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lúcida, feridas abertas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Curadas então...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu pensei que doía expor minha solidão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não, não...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É a coragem de me enfrentar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De saciar meu autoflagelo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De esconder debaixo da cama&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Meus chinelos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que eu me vi sem espelhos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Para que?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se eu sei de tudo tão luz da manhã!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cabe em mim então essa guilhotina que me apontam&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mar a quem tanto temi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Águas que me lavam&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Afogam-me não mais as lágrimas que me choram&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Piedosa crédula de mim em mim a aliviar uma dor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu sei do meu erro, do meu desapego, do meu crime nato&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sei de mim e do apelidado pecar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Viver...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(para me sentir, escute &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=df-eLzao63I&quot;&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=df-eLzao63I&lt;/a&gt;)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/4352329166754809407/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/06/andante.html#comment-form' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4352329166754809407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4352329166754809407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/06/andante.html' title='Andante'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-5605584488082516808</id><published>2010-06-23T15:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T15:48:34.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hipnosis</title><content type='html'>Eu poderia querer voltar a uma hipnose do meu antigo estado de ser. Poderia assim ficar como antes, sem nada conceber, nada doer, porque acatava o prazer dos experimentos sem o universo do método. Ah, quando descobri o método secou o rio da poesia em mim. Uma ou outra pairava como penas de pombos distantes. Eu varria para longe ajuntando os lixos das coisas que eu insistia em ver limpas. Límpidas, não. Transparências não me cabiam. Não cabia em mim aquilo que eu não repensara. Fui nadando de olhos abertos meios cerrados da inconsciência. Era hipnose minha, provinda das vezes que jurei não existir. Eu sequer me sabia. Mas doía, doía a ausência dos carinhos. Experimentei algum. Nada encontrei nele. Experimentei algumas. Nada havia para me satisfazer. Não sei o que. Não sei o que. Ainda não sei o que...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/5605584488082516808/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/06/hipnosis.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/5605584488082516808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/5605584488082516808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/06/hipnosis.html' title='Hipnosis'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-4318726463094537196</id><published>2010-06-23T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T07:25:17.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gomes da laranja orgânica</title><content type='html'>E eram tantas elas&lt;br /&gt;
Tantos eles&lt;br /&gt;
O primeiro me chegou&lt;br /&gt;
Como bêbado hereditário&lt;br /&gt;
Dizendo as regras do jogo&lt;br /&gt;
O segundo mil faces&lt;br /&gt;
Cada uma distante do Namor ao lado&lt;br /&gt;
Do mentiroso en-amorado&lt;br /&gt;
O terceiro - facada nas costas&lt;br /&gt;
A primeira meu espelho&lt;br /&gt;
Quando eu pensava 21&lt;br /&gt;
Outras vagabundas &lt;br /&gt;
Cigarros e cervejas&lt;br /&gt;
Poesias desperdiçadas&lt;br /&gt;
Vida, vida, nada&lt;br /&gt;
Hoje a meia luz&lt;br /&gt;
Meia verdade&lt;br /&gt;
Meia idade&lt;br /&gt;
Caminho para me re-conhecer...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/4318726463094537196/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/06/gomes-da-laranja-organica.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4318726463094537196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4318726463094537196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/06/gomes-da-laranja-organica.html' title='Gomes da laranja orgânica'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-8019294128493238700</id><published>2010-06-22T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T12:07:42.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vazio azul</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Há um azul dentro de mim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;De um vazio da espera&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Vazio transbordante&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Das certezas incertas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Coisas que eu fiz&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Erradas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Nenhuma certeza ainda&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Tempo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Tempo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Tempo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Traidor da minha consciência&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Inconsciente estado do viver&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Quando eu soube&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Já era manhã&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Depois daquela noite comum...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/8019294128493238700/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/06/vazio-azul.html#comment-form' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/8019294128493238700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/8019294128493238700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/06/vazio-azul.html' title='Vazio azul'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-5201507144101272608</id><published>2010-05-02T11:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T11:09:55.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Astronauta</title><content type='html'>Estou a descobri meus íntimos segredos. Depois de ti nuvens últimas se foram. Eu que tanto queria ser um astronauta. Um navegador do espaço eu queria ser para alcançar o inalcançável. E essa que se denomina lua, que vejo entre os detalhes de vidro do pequeno quarto do hotel é a culpada. Descobri que a quero tanto, que não quero nada. Lua de mentira, na qual a pedra se vai sem tocar sua pele... Lua dos enamorados, dos desgraçados de paixão. Mentirosa feiticeira, tu não existes lua da ilusão! E quanto mais longe de mim estás, quanto mais se afastas da minha visão, tece o fio da minha alma em ansiedade e solidão...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/5201507144101272608/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/05/astronauta.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/5201507144101272608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/5201507144101272608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/05/astronauta.html' title='Astronauta'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-398139485716850217</id><published>2010-04-28T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T05:44:35.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Canção de vaga-lumes</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ah, se eu pudesse&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apanhar no céu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma estrela que nascesse&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ou no mar aquela&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que morresse&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Para se tornar infinda&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Faria tua vida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Inda mais linda&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Acometeria&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Luz, veracidade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Como miríades de vaga-lumes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Despindo-se no breu dessa cidade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Onde habitam os olhos teus...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;RUSSO,T.C.F.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/398139485716850217/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/cancao-de-vaga-lumes.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/398139485716850217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/398139485716850217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/cancao-de-vaga-lumes.html' title='Canção de vaga-lumes'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-4909138760141092869</id><published>2010-04-27T12:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T12:29:40.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Áptero</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Áptero. Estátua antiga de divindade sem asas. Estou um templo antigo sem colunatas laterais, frontais ou basais. Digo-me suspenso em mim mesmo. Não mais a dor do precipício, não mais a dor de fincar unhas nas paredes para ver a rosa novamente brotar da ilusão. Espanta-me a liberdade casta de uma ave sem asas! Áptero. Filorexa partenogênica caminho entre nuvens amarelas-cítricas-viticulturais. Surpreendo-me expandida em elos com ligações internas. Sou eu em meu eu anelado ao outro meu eu. Egoística engenharia de mim mesmo. O insecto e a doença. A vinha e o filoxérico. Dispersão de um táxon perturbado pelo amor. O que o amor não é? A resposta é livre. Deve estar errada. Por favor, escolha outra, aperte o botão de girar a mente! Ortóptero frio afinado! Mastigador, cursorial cigano dos desertos desdobrados. Sou um áptero incondicional. Há uma noite, mas, não há uma primavera sincera. A neve está derretendo, vibra quente o vento, os olhos ardem da ausência de lágrimas. Ápteros não choram jamais...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/4909138760141092869/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/aptero.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4909138760141092869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4909138760141092869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/aptero.html' title='Áptero'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-396576972056431151</id><published>2010-04-26T09:51:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T09:51:04.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object height=&quot;132&quot; width=&quot;353&quot;&gt;&lt;embed src=&quot;http://www.goear.com/files/external.swf?file=5288e00&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot; wmode=&quot;transparent&quot; quality=&quot;high&quot; width=&quot;353&quot; height=&quot;132&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/396576972056431151/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post_8215.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/396576972056431151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/396576972056431151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post_8215.html' title=''/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-2566897254115469408</id><published>2010-04-25T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T09:37:09.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Macy e sua voz de passarinho</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ela era tão ela&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O cabelo de carapinha&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Esplêndida negra&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Explodindo em sons&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Como terra virgem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Abençoada &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A voz rouca única&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Olhos cheios de uma pureza&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Para nunca dizer adeus&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não havia em si um talvez&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nem um estar morno&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Era clara confissão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Precisava de amor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Como todos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh, Macy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Como sonhei contigo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em todas as manhãs que te ouvi cantar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Claro como o passarinho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que voava do seu ninho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Para se aventurar....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/2566897254115469408/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/macy-e-sua-voz-de-passarinho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/2566897254115469408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/2566897254115469408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/macy-e-sua-voz-de-passarinho.html' title='Macy e sua voz de passarinho'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-4393796742003707542</id><published>2010-04-24T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:11:48.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acordei canção de amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Acordei nessa manhã qualquer. Busquei em mim a vida que expresso. Sim, eu ainda estava ali dentro de mim. E logo numa fotografia estática, de largo sorriso deparo-me com tua vida na minha expressa. Procuro meus óculos, para enxergar de perto o conceito de vida. Levanto-me ao rangido da minha enorme cama e saio sem sandálias rumo ao espelho. Não há real espelho que me mostre o lado que o céu cultiva meus mais secretos sonhos. Ando feliz com tão pouco depois de tanto que caminhei... Talvez eu tenha um sol dentro de mim agora. Se cada pensamento meu nessa manhã qualquer fosse dotado de som uma canção estaria no ar. Uma linda canção de amor...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO,T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/4393796742003707542/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/acordei-cancao-de-amor.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4393796742003707542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/4393796742003707542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/acordei-cancao-de-amor.html' title='Acordei canção de amor'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644729912068120939.post-9021260154526680972</id><published>2010-04-24T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T13:12:31.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minha estrela</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Procurei tanto por ti minha estrela&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em todos os céus&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Até os inalcançáveis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por todas as galáxias&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu não sabia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que teria uma chance&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De enfim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conhecer o amor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E agora que te encontrei&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Absorvo teu brilho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E resplandeço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em teu calor...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
RUSSO, T.C.F.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/feeds/9021260154526680972/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/minha-estrela.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/9021260154526680972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1644729912068120939/posts/default/9021260154526680972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://filgueirasrusso.blogspot.com/2010/04/minha-estrela.html' title='Minha estrela'/><author><name>Theresa Russo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07066397843334682039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3LBsSf0LUk/ViBpBLyLMZI/AAAAAAAACEE/wTgJWiJazks/s220/11838802_505762932926532_5661710974918531579_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>