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wedding poetry

nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
macia weeping
filhas do tempo
sabe uma liberação barata
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim

 



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