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sad love poem

o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
sob a lua da colheita
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
eu sei nĂŁo onde
em possa
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
como ele de quem espĂ­rito na chama do meio-dia
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe

 



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