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family poem

o movimento do seu corpo é como a música
a noite era preta e drear
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
sobre o rio, no monte
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
se ele
lá pela janela na casa velha
porque assim sad meu encantador?
carrinho aqui por meu lado
travails da terra

 



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