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poem

trançado e tecido
conseqüentemente eu não posso
como como as estrelas é este o branco, as caras nameless
mundo que muda sob minha mão
a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
para trás, gire para trás
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
deixe-me ser sad
como uma vela branca
este é o navio da pérola
em sua barraca guardada
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré

 



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