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concrete poetry

eu estou cantando-lhe
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
deixe-nos plantar
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
e assim vai
ao lado de um campo stricken
nós não éramos muitos
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
calma como que segundo verão
arched a inundação

 



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