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i miss you poem

um com você
não seja falso
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
quem estará nomeando o vento
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
os poetas dizem
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
eu olhei em cima do céu glorious

 



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