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poetry poem

traga-me a canção macia
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
as canções velhas
há qualquer um lá
se eu for muito certo
como eu me encontro telhado dentro, selecionado dentro
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro

 



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