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sympathy poem

mundo que muda sob minha mão
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
diga-me mais menos ou diga-me mais
em sua barraca guardada
eu gosto d
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
nós colocamos
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
deus
receoso não mais, eu digo
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
veja que eu me dou a você

 



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