Hello, Sacy
I know it's odd to hear from me again. I haven't maintained correspondence with you since your time on LOUD. Please understand, this is not because I had forgotten about you, but rather that it tormented me so to have seen you go. The following is a poem, prepared for you with hope.
It is in every rounded face, with every boyish grin, that I do see you. Gustavo, can I express that which makes my heart swim in the pool of desire? A sova's dart like cherubim to my chest, your cupid strike double bounced off ascent... but still I climb. I know you had to go, the life for you with Sentinels and their capital flows like honey upon your scalp, you just can't get it out.
Men with round faces, the pangs of recognition cause aches, a longing, a yearning, my mind put on skates. Still I climb to the top, a mountain so smooth and so clear. Why is it that you had to take along pANcada, my dear?
I pass by strangers, looking at the ground, for if I see men with round faces, I think of your crown. Facsimiles of fact, for Sacy they can't replace you, or your love, for Valorant
I know you're done, with braz seven one elle, she is your homeland, but you departed still. Still. Still. My breath remains, bated at the thought that you can climb again.
GOOD LUCK AT CHAMPIONS SACY!
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