I tend the mobile now like an injured bird
We text, text, text our significant words.
I re-read your first, your second, your third,
Look for your small xx, feeling absurd.
The codes we send arrive with a broken chord.
I try to picture your hands, their image is blurred.
Nothing my thumbs press will ever be heard.
DUFFY, C. Disponível em: www.independent.co.uk. Acesso em: 27 out 2021
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