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uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
uma milha atrás
uma tempestade está montando na maré
sadly falando
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
eu sobre-tinha preparado o evento

 



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