Time slips away. Most of the time we are not aware of it and trample time, light-heeled, with our bird's feet.
Remember? As told so many times: I'll never put you - meu melro - in a cage behind a door. Just sit down in the palm of my flat hand. I'll talk sweet to you and enchant you with whatever I can think of: words, books, poems, pictures, food, wine, dreams or ... - there must be more. You can fly away whenever you want to. I'll not squeeze. Feel free to come and go. Fly birdie. Fly! And drop in whenever ...
What more to say than listen with you to this beautiful song from Tom Jobim: 'Fotografia'
Eu, você, nós dois
Aqui neste terraço à beira-mar
And there's always a song to tell that old story