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footprint poem

o ar é como uma borboleta
era uma oysterman novo alto
todos tragam os anos
em e sobre
diga-me
porque
de nossos lugares escondidos
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio
porque assim sad meu encantador?
uma tempestade está montando na maré
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
têm você ouvido
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte

 



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