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grandmother poem

há uma hora do descanso calmo
trançado e tecido
sob a folha dusky do laurel
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
olhar além
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
glass-blower do tempo
eu sou o vento que wavers
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
fora do mar sparkling
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de

 



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