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baby poem

talvez
havia um strangeness em seus bordos
receoso não mais, eu digo
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei
escute
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
o ar é como uma borboleta
como águias na elevação ascendente
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido

 



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