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modern poetry

no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
no alvorecer, disse
eu sei não onde
tempestade
eu disse
eu vi com olhos abertos
vinho velho a beber
uma tempestade está montando na maré
ainda treze anos
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
splendor doce

 



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