Don't feel sorry for me, condemned to live in winter —I have brought the memory of the sun with me.I love you, I must love you always.Fradique

I was happy with her and I suspect I never knew her.Would I have been truly happy if I had actually known her?

It is December in Paris. It was already December when I set out from Luanda, leaving the radiance of your gaze behind me. And it will be December yet, even after the month is over, and then will come only more December and winter, and December again and always the same, until l come back to the Sunny Season, and the land which is lit everywhere, always, by your gaze.

Write and tell me what you have decided. Condemn me to winter, or rescue me from it.YourFradique

Sincerity is almost love.