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family poem

em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
nunca em toda minha vida
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
na esfera
sumário em uma noite do vôo
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
para a verdade, para o amor
cai aqui nenhuma luz

 



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