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funeral poem

o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
como uma vela branca
o céu
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
pela ponte rude
eu soube o silêncio das estrelas e do mar
agora que eu lhe esfriei
em e sobre
porque
em setembro
melhore do que o granito
na terra silenciosa
temos nós nenhum shame?

 



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