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child poem

talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
vinho velho a beber
uma milha atrás
nós colocamos
eu estou morrendo
se ele
há um que esse i amou uma vez assim muito
eu ouvi-os na noite
temos nós nenhum shame?

 



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