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as montanhas são povos silenciosos
rosas e ouro
se eu for muito certo
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
sombras voadas que varrem perto
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
qual eu desejo observar
não gire sua cabeça
eu estou morrendo

 



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