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poetry for kid

veio fazer exame de me pela mão
ainda treze anos
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
eu vi com olhos abertos
balançado no berço do profundo
há qualquer um lá
é ido
as montanhas são povos silenciosos
doubtless eu recordo ainda
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
simplesmente falando
quando você vier hoje à noite
sobre o rio, no monte
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira

 



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