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prose poetry

eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
eu vi a primeira pera
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
você está desobstruído
entre as montanhas eu vagueei
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
têm você andar visto através da vila
não permaneça não mais
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
eu v todas as sagacidades humanas
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza

 



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