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About Queluz

She’s a rose in concrete, metaphors spillin’ like lean. “Her skin’s a map of tears,” like in the movie, quiet pain screamin’. I’m thinkin’, how she laugh tho? Sarcasm drippin’, she said, “Wayne, I fuck for freedom.” Freedom? Shit, that’s a bar! I chuckled, but it’s heavy—trapped in a game, no exit.

Disponibilidade

First off, I grab my coffee from that little café on Rua da Liberdade. You know the one? The barista there is a legend. He knows my order by heart. I’m like, “Yo, give me that double shot, extra strong!” He just laughs and says, “You need it today, huh?” Little did he know, I was about to need a whole pot.

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