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african american poetry

em seu vôo
material da lua
e pão do breaketh mais
seja paciente, vida, quando o amor está na porta
se eu for muito certo
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
uma tempestade está montando na maré
diz de épocas velhas boas
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
travails da terra
sob a lua da colheita
para a verdade, para o amor

 



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