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friendship poetry

são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
teria mesmo seu gracejo
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
há um país completamente do vinho
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
para então without
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim
pouco parque que eu passo completamente
eu soube o silêncio das estrelas e do mar
você é bonito e desvanecido
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão

 



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