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grandmother poem

eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
acima de e para baixo vai
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
a escuridão rola para cima
esplêndido e terrível seu amor
havia um strangeness em seus bordos
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
travails da terra

 



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