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religious poem

sobre o rio, no monte
material da lua
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós săo
nas manhăs nuvem-cinzentas
macio como a cama na terra
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade

 



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