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angel poem

lá pela janela na casa velha
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
nĂŁo esteja irritado com mim
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
eu estou morrendo
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave

 



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