miojo mexico moja I remember days spent in Mexico how the music of the world was alive how

it worked and it was never spoiled somehow it seemed to me pure and holy but how did it have so much enchantment I was hardly alive and knew nothing yet when I remember infinity I see how that feeling wakes up in me like a fantasy or heaven itself no matter there was nothing fun to do its power was present here and before larger than real greater than beauty its hold on me makes no logical sense why cry for a homeland that doesn’t ex- -

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