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i miss you poem

eu sou o vento que wavers
raça elevado-carregada
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra
macia weeping
receoso não mais, eu digo
para então without
é frequentemente não assim?
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
era muitas e muito um ano há
é ido
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu

 



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